


Quantum Satis

by hawk_soaring



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Big Bang Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:40:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 49,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawk_soaring/pseuds/hawk_soaring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is away at boarding school when he gets unwanted visitors. A con man to the end, his father has sold him into slavery to settle his gambling debts. Tony quickly learns what it means to be a slave at the Washington DC Training Facility. He goes through a few trainers before finding one that can handle him. Even though he still harbors the desire to run away, he finds himself attracted to one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quantum Satis

Title: Quantum Satis  
Author: hawk_soaring  
Fandom: NCIS  
Pairing: Gibbs/ DiNozzo  
Rating: FRAO  
Warnings: Slave!fic, abuse, consent issues, betrayal  
Summary: Tony is away at boarding school when he gets unwanted visitors. A con man to the end, his father has sold him into slavery to settle his gambling debts. Tony quickly learns what it means to be a slave at the Washington DC Training Facility. He goes through a few trainers before finding one that can handle him. Even though he still harbors the desire to run away, he finds himself attracted to one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.  
Beta: [](http://sinfulslasher.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**sinfulslasher**](http://sinfulslasher.dreamwidth.org/)  
A/N: Art by the lovely [](http://hinky-hippo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**hinky_hippo**](http://hinky-hippo.dreamwidth.org/) , [HERE](http://hinky-hippo.livejournal.com/18418.html)

~*~*~

Tony stood in front of the headmaster’s desk, trying not fidget. He wasn’t doing a great job. Too much was being kept from him. They thought he didn’t know, but it was obvious in the way Jeanie, Mister Haversham’s secretary, hadn’t been able to meet his eyes. She had always been friendly before but now she seemed embarrassed for him.

To his knowledge, he hadn’t done anything wrong in the last twelve hours. He hadn’t toilet papered the dorm. He hadn’t put a cherry bomb in the toilet. He hadn’t duck taped his roommate to the wall in the lounge. He hadn’t turned in an exceptionally detailed drawing of two people having sexual intercourse in place of an essay. He hadn’t slept in, missing morning calisthenics. His grades were good. His attitude was good – or at least passable. He was at a loss.

As Tony tried to reason his way through what was happening, Mister Haversham sat at his desk looking through a thick file. Other than telling Tony to “stand right there” and “I’ll be with you in a moment” the man hadn’t even looked at him.

An itch started on the instep of Tony’s left foot. He flexed his foot, trying to scratch an itch without moving. It wasn’t working. He ground his foot against the carpet and got a little relief, but not enough. It was maddening.

“Stop fidgeting, please.”

Tony stilled, staring at Mister Haversham. The headmaster hadn’t even looked up from his desk. Tony bit back a sigh.

A knock on the door startled Tony and made Mister Haversham look up. The door opened and James Stephenson, the dorm monitor, poked his head into the room.

Finished?” Mister Haversham folded his hands in front of him.

James stole a glance at Tony before looking away quickly. “Yes, sir.”

Mister Haversham nodded. “Thank you, James. You may go.”

James nodded and glanced at Tony again before backing out of the room and closing the door softly.

Tony was even more confused. James had looked nervous and he hadn’t been able to meet Tony’s eyes. Tony bit his lip as he continued to stare at the door. Mister Haversham cleared his throat and Tony quickly looked his way. The man looked faintly ill, and that frightened Tony more than anything else that had happened today.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you here this afternoon.” Mister Haversham’s voice seemed strained and he couldn’t quite meet Tony’s eyes.

Tony nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Just then the phone on Mister Haversham’s desk rang. The headmaster held up his hand. “Just a moment.” He answered the phone. “Yes, yes – give me two minutes.” The phone was hung up with more force than was necessary. Mister Haversham sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before taking a breath and settling again, hands clasped in front of him on his desk.

Tony thought the man looked nervous – or pissed off. He couldn’t decide which side of the fence Mister Haversham was on. After a moment he realized the headmaster was speaking to him and he blinked in surprise. “I – um, excuse me, sir?” Tony licked his lips nervously at the raised eyebrow. “I was woolgathering, sir, and missed what you were saying.”

Just then there was a rather forceful knock on the door and Mister Haversham sighed. “Well, I’m afraid we’re out of time, Anthony.”

Tony frowned, more confused now than when he’d first arrived in the office.

“Don’t worry, son. It will be fine.”

Tony blanched. Mister Haversham had never called him son before and the canned platitude about everything being okay was freaking him out a little – more than a little, to be honest.

The door opened as Mister Haversham stood and Tony turned his head to see two burly men enter the room. One held a black satchel and the other looked Tony up and down as if he were a piece of meat. Goosebumps broke out on Tony’s arms and he shivered as he turned to look at Mister Haversham again. “Sir?”

The man with the satchel approached the desk while the other man closed the door and stood in front of it. Tony had the distinct feeling the man was guarding it, but from what Tony couldn’t guess.

“M –Mister Haversham?” Tony silently cursed himself for stammering but the heavy silence in the room was freaking him out.

The man with the satchel turned and stared at him for a moment. “Quiet, boy,” he snapped. “We’ll get to you in a moment.” With that, the man turned to face Mister Haversham again and Tony was left staring at his back. He thought Mister Haversham looked a little embarrassed or maybe ill, but he couldn’t be sure as the man wouldn’t actually look at him. Sure, the headmaster glanced his way every so often, but he looked away so quickly that Tony was unable to catch his eye. And he needed Mister Haversham to look at him. He felt like he was becoming invisible and it was unnerving him more than a little. Freaking out was the least of his worries right now. He took a breath.

“Don’t.” Goon number one hadn’t even turned around but Tony snapped his mouth shut, swallowing the sigh that threatened. If he wasn’t allowed to talk, then sighing in frustration would probably not go over well either.

“It’s all perfectly legal. Sold to settle Mister DiNozzo’s debts. And, according to law, he is perfectly within his rights to do so. I just need you to sign these two pages, here and here, and we can conclude this business.”

Sold to settle Mister DiNozzo’s debts. What the hell did that mean? His father was broke? How was that even possible? Tony knew that his mother had been wealthy and, when she had died, everything had gone to his father – millions – with a little left in trust for Tony’s college career. So how could his father possibly be broke? And what had he sold off?

Tony could hear the rustling of papers but he couldn’t see past goon number one so he had to assume Mister Haversham was reading the papers that apparently needed a signature.

“I’m not comfortable with signing these.” Tony thought Mister Haversham’s voice sounded much smaller than he was used to hearing.

“Comfortable doesn’t factor into this. The papers are legal and, since the school has temporary authority on Mister DiNozzo’s behalf, I need your signature.” The goon leaned forward and placed both hands on the desk. “And, before you think you can stall this, all it would take is one phone call and you would be arrested for obstruction.”

Tony bit his lip. The conversation was making him decidedly uncomfortable. Mister Haversham was a good man and this idiot shouldn’t be threatening him. Maybe the sheriff should be called – and goon numbers one and two arrested! Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was missing something – something obvious.

Mister Haversham muttered his way through signing the papers and Tony bit back a smile. Goon number one sighed audibly as he shuffled the stack of papers and slipped them back into his satchel. He held out his hand and chuckled when Mister Haversham ignored it.

“Thank you, Mister Haversham.” Goon number one turned to face Tony. “You going to give me any trouble, boy?”

Tony blinked in surprise. Why would he give the man trouble? It seemed that he had the proper paperwork for whatever trinket his father had sold to pay his debts, but why Mister Haversham had to sign them was still a mystery to him. “No, sir. But may I ask – what did my father sell to pay off his debts and why was Mister Haversham brought into it? I’ll be seventeen in two months. If this item is part of my inheritance it seems like I should have been asked to sign.”

Goon number one seemed quite taken aback and Tony glanced past him to where Mister Haversham sat at his desk, looking a little bit ill now.

Tony sighed. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

Goon number one looked past Tony and nodded once. He was signaling goon number two – but for what? Goon number one visibly straightened, standing almost at attention. “Your father sold the one valuable thing he still has control of.”

Tony frowned. “What do you mean by ‘one thing’? My father is very wealthy. He owns two homes, multiple cars, and has an interest in an investment firm.” Tony bit his lips when he realized he had interrupted the goon, but he wouldn’t apologize for it. He needed answers.

Goon number one pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing audibly. “Your father has gambled away his fortune. All of his possessions have been sold to pay his debts and he was moments away from being sold into bondage to pay off the remainder of his debts when he remembered one last valuable possession. A bargaining chip, if you will.”

Tony frowned. “I think he was mistaken, sir. I didn’t bring anything of value to school with me.” He hoped the man wouldn’t be angry, but Tony thought his father had simply sent the men on a wild goose chase so he could disappear.

Goon number one smiled then and Tony thought he would hurl as goose flesh raised on his bare arms. He looked past goon number one again, only to see Mister Haversham staring at him in horror. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again.

“Anthony.” Goon number one’s voice startled Tony and he quickly looked at the man.

“It’s Tony.” Tony didn’t know why he corrected the man. It was just something he did automatically.

“Tony, there is one commodity that you’re forgetting about. It is the most valuable thing a man can ever possess.”

Tony thought about that for a moment and couldn’t figure out what it could possibly be.

“Children are infinitely valuable, Tony.” Goon number one’s voice was quiet now. “Your father sold his most valuable possession to save himself.”

Tony gaped as the words hit his mind. His father had sold his most valuable possession. His father had sold him to pay off his gambling debts. He would laugh at the absurdity of the situation if it wasn’t happening to him. He had been sold. His father had sold him like a piece of property. Tony felt his knees begin to buckle and he looked toward Mister Haversham again. The headmaster was still seated at his desk but now he had his head cradled in his hands.

“Marshall.”

Tony blinked his eyes. Goon number one looked worried and Tony could feel himself beginning to fall – but strong arms wrapped around him from behind, keeping him on his feet. Tony gasped for breath as he struggled weakly against the arms holding him.

“Tony, please settle down. Mister Marshall is just trying to help you. I don’t want you to faint, fall, and injure yourself.”

So goon number two was Mister Marshall. Who was goon number one?

Tony licked his suddenly dry lips. “Who – what is your name?”

“I am Mister Saunders. And, as you’ve probably guessed, I’m a procurement specialist. Mister Marshall and I work for Jensen International.”

Tony closed his eyes briefly, the darkness not helping his feeling of vertigo. Everyone knew Jensen International: it was the biggest slave house in the nation. There were major auction houses on both coasts and minor branches in every major city in nearly every state. Slavery was big business in this country and J.I. had been there in the beginning, taking advantage of every legal loop hole to build a multi-billion dollar business in just a few short years. Peddling human flesh was immensely profitable – especially since the U.S. had instituted slavery as a way to curb crime and bond servitude as a way for people to pay off their debts.

The institutionalization of criminals was a tax payer’s worst nightmare. It cost the country billions of dollars every year to house the convicts. Slavery would put the burden of housing the least violent criminals back onto the public. Having free labor was a big draw for slave owners, and bidding was fierce for those usually white collar criminals who had marketable skills. Bond servants worked for a wage commensurate to the position they were filling but at least minimum wage. A daily housing fee was added to their bond but they could eventually earn their freedom – as long as they honestly worked for it. If his father owed as much as it seemed he did, selling himself into bond servitude could have very well meant a life sentence for him. Tony didn’t agree with it, but he could see why his father had given him up in his place. The fucking coward.

*~*~*

The next short minutes were a blur. Apparently Mister Saunders wanted to “get this done as quickly as possible”. Tony never wanted these few moments to end because, when they did, his life would basically be over. He was hyperventilating but he couldn’t seem to stop. Mister Marshall took care of it when he bent him forward at the waist, one arm still firmly around Tony’s midsection, the other pressing firmly between his shoulder blades.

“Breathe in time with my voice, boy.” Mister Marshall’s voice was a low growl and, if not for the predicament he was currently in, Tony might have found it amusing how much that voice matched the man’s heavily muscled frame. “In… out… in…”

Tony found himself breathing in time with the slow count, and in just a few moments Mister Marshall had hauled him back upright again. Tony wobbled, and the arm around his mid-section tightened briefly. Tony’s fingers grasped the strong arm and he swallowed the nausea that threatened as the room spun around him.

“Better yet?”

Tony opened his eyes again and saw Mister Saunders staring at him from just a short distance away. Close enough for him to take a swing, actually.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Mister Saunders smirked. “I wouldn’t try it, kid. But then I know what a badass Marshall is. He’d kick your ass all the way to D.C.”

“D.C.?” Tony’s voice cracked.

“Best slave school in the nation, boy. And we’ve already got too much invested in you to put you in anyone else’s hands.”

Tony just stared, too overwhelmed to even think about what that statement meant.

Mister Saunders took a breath and let his eyes roam over Tony’s body, making him squirm. “Are you going to cooperate, boy – or would you rather be dragged out of here in restraints?”

Tony’s mouth went completely dry. He couldn’t have made a sound if he had wanted to, and he cringed when Mister Saunders stepped into his personal space.

“I asked you a question, boy, and if you don’t answer me, I will strip you bare, slap you in restraints, and frog-march you out of here. I’m giving you a choice. Can you cooperate or do you need help with that?”

Tony’s mind’s eye was immediately filled with the humiliating picture of him, naked and in chains, being walked through the halls as classes were being let out. The sounds of the other boys laughing at him filled his ears and he gasped for breath as Mister Saunders cupped his chin with his hand.

“Breathe.”

Tony’s eyes snapped up to meet Mister Saunders’ gaze and he gulped in another breath, swallowing the scream he could feel trapped in his lungs. “Please, no.”

His plea had been a mere whisper of sound, but Mister Saunders nodded. He had heard and understood.

Mister Saunders nodded toward Mister Marshall and then turned his back on Tony completely. “Mister Haversham.”

The headmaster pushed himself up from his desk. “Don’t you dare tell me it’s been a _pleasure_.” His voice hissed out from between clenched teeth, and Tony stared down at his feet, unable to look at the man for fear of seeing censure in his eyes.

Mister Saunders chuckled softly. “Point taken, Mister Haversham.” The man’s voice was quiet but Tony could sense the steel behind the words, and he decided he never wanted to piss the man off if he could help it. “But it has been a pleasure to deal with you, sir. You care for your students and that is rare in these times. Good day, Mister Haversham.”

Tony stiffened when he heard Mister Saunders approach again and the arm around his middle tightened just a fraction – enough to let him know that Mister Marshall was still paying attention.

“Look at me, boy.”

Tony took a breath and lifted his chin. Mister Saunders was standing close – and was blocking Tony’s view of Mister Haversham, which was a very good thing in his opinion. He wasn’t sure he could look into Mister Haversham’s eyes and then walk out of this place. Being dragged out, naked and in chains, wasn’t an option for him either.

“Are you ready to do this?”

Tony blinked in surprise. Did the man actually expect him to smile and say yes? He bit his lip and shook his head slowly. He didn’t think he could…

Mister Saunders smiled a little and stood straighter. “We are going to show you what is expected of you. All you have to do is promise to follow my directions exactly.”

Tony nodded hesitantly.

“We will make sure you don’t falter, Tony.”

Tony blinked back sudden tears. Mister Saunders had been calling him _boy_ like he didn’t matter and Tony could shrug that off, but hearing the man call him _Tony_ hit him like a fist to the chest.

“Follow my lead.”

They turned to face the door and Tony wondered if Mister Saunders knew how difficult it was for him to look at his old headmaster. In any case, he was grateful for the change of scenery and he told himself to forget about the man sitting behind the desk and concentrate on getting out of the school without embarrassing himself too badly.

“We will stand very close as we move through the halls.”

The two men moved into position and Tony could tell this wasn’t the first time they had done this. He couldn’t help but wonder about the other slaves but cut off that train of thought when Mister Saunders cleared his throat.

“Don’t let yourself get distracted, Tony. That’s when mistakes happen and things can go bad very quickly.”

Tony nodded, not trusting his voice.

“We will go from here, directly to the front door, down the steps, and to our waiting car. We will be close enough that our arms will brush against yours as you walk. You will keep in step with us at all times, letting your arms swing naturally at your sides. You will not acknowledge anyone or talk with anyone.” He stopped and took a breath before turning to face Tony. “It will be easier if you don’t look around. Keep your eyes forward and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. If you can do those two things, everything will be fine and we will exit the building without mishap. Once outside, Mister Marshall will take hold of your arm. Do not struggle. He will lead you to the car and we will get inside. Only then will you be let loose. Do you understand?”

Tony licked his lips and nodded slowly. He could do this. He _had_ to do this. He took a breath and let it out slowly. His skin felt two sizes too small and he could feel his muscles twitch. He only hoped he didn’t lose his shit before they got outside.

~*~*~

Tony had nearly faltered when he’d spied his belongings piled in the reception area outside Mister Haversham’s office. Only the soft growl of Mister Saunders’ voice kept him moving, putting one foot in front of the other through the outer office and out the door into the main hallway. Too many people were milling around and Tony could feel his heart start to race.

“Ignore them. Head up, eyes forward. One foot in front of the other.”

Tony didn’t know how he did it, but listening to Mister Saunders’ voice kept him on track, especially since he couldn’t forget his earlier promise to strip him down and march him out of the school buck naked and in chains. Not even Manny’s enthusiastic greeting as they passed him in the hallway could get that horrible thought out of Tony’s head and he easily ignored his best friend’s greeting. It was the “what the fuck, man?” that followed him down the hall that nearly did him in. The presence of the two men at his side kept him moving and it didn’t even matter that he couldn’t really see where he was going.

When they got outside, Mister Marshall took hold of Tony’s arm like he thought he would try to make a break for it, but in reality, Tony was too shocked to care by then and he merely allowed himself to be led to the waiting limousine.

“Fancy for a slave transport.”

“Don’t be mulish, Tony. It isn’t becoming to you.”

Tony silently cursed his flaming cheeks as he murmured his thanks to the man holding the door open. He slipped into the vehicle after Mister Saunders and Tony realized the men had probably thought he would slide across the seat and out the far door, giving them the slip. He rolled his eyes. They must deal with real idiots sometimes because only a fool would think he could put something like that over on Mister Marshall. The man was seriously scary, and Tony had no doubt that he could chase him down and beat the snot out of him. And that would only be the beginning. He would have to come up with something else – some other plan to get away. Maybe when they stopped to use the bathroom or to get a bite to eat. Tony could easily slip away in a crowded rest stop.

“Knees.”

Tony looked up and saw that Mister Saunders was pointing to the floor at his feet. “Excuse me, sir?” He couldn’t have heard the man correctly.

“On your knees, boy. Slaves kneel at their master’s feet.”

Tony’s mind blanked. Kneel? Was he serious?

Mister Marshall grabbed Tony’s arm and maneuvered him onto the floor despite Tony’s half-hearted struggles to get free from his grasp. Tony was breathing heavily as he looked up at the two men. He was crouched on the floor, his hands braced in front of him.

Mister Saunders smiled. “Don’t even think about trying to escape, boy. Sit back on your heels and fold your arms behind your back.” He paused and Tony watched him warily. “Now.” When Tony didn’t immediately move into position, Mister Saunders sighed. “Mister Marshall, would you like to help Tony get into the correct position?”

Mister Marshall smiled and cracked his knuckles, making Tony blanch.

“That’s not fair.” Tony continued to grumble as he scrambled around on the floor. After a long moment he finally got to his knees, sitting back on his heels, his hands in his lap.

Mister Saunders raised an eyebrow and Tony glanced at Mister Marshall quickly before putting his hands behind his back with a put upon sigh.

Mister Saunders took a breath. “We’re going to have a little chat.” He raised a hand and when the car lurched forward, Tony realized it had been a signal to the driver to start moving. Too bad Tony hadn’t known the signal since the lurch of the car made him rebalance himself so he didn’t fall over.

Tony’s scalp prickled. He didn’t want to chat. He wanted to go to sleep and wake up in his bed in his dorm room. He wanted to go for a run and then take a shower and rush to breakfast. He wanted a greasy hamburger for lunch, tucking his tie into the pocket of his jacket so it wouldn’t get dirty. He wanted to fall into bed exhausted at the end of the day and have his roommate tease him and accuse him of being a wuss, even though Manny wasn’t an athlete and could use a run or three to get him in shape.

A loud clap startled him, and Tony looked up quickly to see Mister Saunders frowning at him. Tony bit his lip as he felt his face flush.

“Pay attention.” Mister Saunders sounded pissed, and Tony bit back a sigh. Seemed that he was always disappointing someone but he had the feeling that it wasn’t wise to piss off the slave procurement specialist.

“Sorry, sir.” The platitude fell easily from his lips, more a habit than anything else, but his voice was almost non-existent as he couldn’t seem to draw in enough air to speak.

And then Mister Saunders began to _explain_ things to Tony. It was all Tony could do to stay on his knees on the floor of the limo since he wanted nothing more than to throw himself out of the speeding vehicle. Maybe getting splatted on the highway would put him out of his misery and deliver him from the hell he was finding himself in.

“Are you paying attention?” Mister Saunders’ voice wasn’t as harsh as before and Tony wondered just how bad he looked if he had elicited some semblance of pity from this man – this slave procurement specialist.

Tony opened his mouth to answer but shut it again quickly when he realized he was more apt to scream out his horror than speak coherently. He also had a difficult time nodding. The lie weighed heavily on his shoulders and he suspected that Mister Saunders wanted the truth. He settled for a slight shrug. He was trying to pay attention but the words kept floating away from him.

“He’s in shock.”

Mister Marshall’s growly voice washed over him as Tony fell forward. He thought he heard someone swear but he couldn’t keep hold of the words long enough to make sense of them. Hands grabbed at him and he tried to twist away. The hands, however, were stronger than the meager resistance he was able to muster and, after a minute, he simply had no more strength to resist.

Tony whimpered as his jacket was pulled from his body. Fingers loosened his tie, tugging it free from his collar, and then fingers opened the buttons of his shirt. Cool air hit his skin and Tony began to shiver. It wasn’t until his folded jacket was tucked under his head that Tony realized he was lying on his side, his legs bent. When he opened his eyes he saw shiny black dress shoes – two pairs. He sighed softly and closed his eyes again. Maybe when he woke he’d be back in his dorm room and this would have all been a horrible nightmare.

The hum of the wheels on the pavement lulled Tony and he found he could breathe a little easier. He didn’t want to sit up again, though. Kneeling at Mister Saunders’ feet was too embarrassing and he knew he would make an awful slave. There was no way he could get used to being a slave. He couldn’t be a slave. How could he possibly be a slave?

With those thoughts in his mind, Tony drifted into an uneasy sleep.

*~*~*

“Can’t pretend to sleep all day, boy.”

Tony blinked slowly and realized he had been awake for a couple of minutes at least. The car had stopped and Tony wondered if they were already at the institute. He pushed up onto his hands before looking up at the man sitting in front of him.

Mister Saunders stared back.

Tony couldn’t hold his gaze and looked around. “Wh-where is Mister Marshall?”

Mister Saunders raised an eyebrow and Tony bit his lip. It was probably way out of line for him to speak, let alone question the man in front of him. But Tony had never been one to toe the line. Hell he’d been known to step way the hell out of bounds just to prove a point – and this was no different.

After a moment Mister Saunders shook his head slightly. “Mister Marshall is using the facilities and procuring lunch for us.”

“Will I be given the chance to use the facilities as well?” Tony didn’t use air quotes around the parroted words, but they were obvious in any case.

A slow smile broke across Mister Saunders’ face, and Tony felt a tiny frisson of fear begin to blossom.

“Absolutely. We can’t have you having an accident now – can we?”

Tony licked his lips before drawing his lower lip between his teeth. “Thank you, sir.”

“Now, I think you’d best get back on your knees, boy. It’s time to step up the training.”

It took Tony a moment to process the command. Back on his knees. Just great. Tony grumbled under his breath as he pulled his legs under him again. As he moved into position, he wondered if the doors were unlocked. For that matter, where was the driver? Was he standing outside the car? On which side? Could he make a break for it now or should he wait until Mister Marshall took him in to ‘use the facilities’? Tony had no doubt that Mister Marshall was the brawn to Mister Saunders’ brains, but he was a good runner and he thought he might be able to take the man in a foot race – especially if he could get lost in a crowd of people.

Once he was settled, Tony took a breath. “Could I ask a question, sir?” He thought it best to be polite. Maybe it would keep Mister Saunders off kilter. He couldn’t be used to new slaves behaving well, after all. Tony knew how he was feeling so he could very well imagine that other slaves were as eager to disappear as he was.

“Sure.” Mister Saunders sounded amused and, sure enough, when Tony glanced up, the man was smiling slightly. “Go ahead.”

Tony bit his lip. “Where are we, sir?”

“A little town in Connecticut. Just off I-95.”

Tony frowned.

“I don’t like to make it too difficult on the new slaves by making them walk into a packed restroom on the interstate – naked.”

Tony gasped and looked up again. “S-sir?” He suddenly felt a bit nauseous, especially when Mister Saunders laughed out loud, presumably at his distress.

“Naked, boy. Surely you’ve seen naked slaves.”

Mister Saunders was staring at him now and Tony fidgeted. His left hand slipped off his right wrist and he grabbed at the sleeve of his shirt. “N-not all slaves are naked, sir.” He licked his lips. “In fact, most are clothed. It is rare to see a slave without clothing on.” Tony looked down at his lap. He knew he was babbling but, naked? Really? There was no way he was shucking his clothing and going anywhere naked. No fucking way.

“Do you really think you’re the first boy to go through this?”

Tony blushed. It was as if Mister Saunders could read his mind – and he didn’t like it.

“I’ve had to pick up numerous boys – granted, not many of them your age. They all think they can outsmart me. They all think they can either talk their way out of it or run away.” Mister Saunders paused and Tony had time to blush a little, lowering his chin to hide the evidence of his guilty thoughts. “You haven’t been too mouthy up until now. In fact, you’re obviously trying to be very polite.” Another pause, and Tony found it difficult to draw a breath. “I think you’re a runner, Tony. I think you’re thinking about running at this very second. You think you can outrun Mister Marshall if you can only get a little head start.” He leaned forward. “I bet it’s killing you that we aren’t on the interstate and you won’t have the chance to blend into the crowd. Maybe you even thought you could bum a ride.” Mister Saunders’ cheek brushed against Tony’s as he whispered. “It isn’t going to happen – boy.”

Tony pulled away as if scalded, scrabbling backward on his hands and feet like a crab. His back hit the seat behind him and he lunged for the nearest door without even thinking, throwing it open and falling out onto the pavement. One hand hit the ground and then his feet were under him. This was going to work!

Something heavy smashed into him, sending him to his knees. He struggled, but wound up face down on the sun-warmed dirty pavement. Wordless cries fell from his lips as he writhed under the weight pinning him down. There were more hands than just Mister Marshall’s and Tony realized the driver must have joined the struggle. He was outnumbered and outgunned, so to speak. But it wasn’t in him to give up and, in his panic, he didn’t even consider the possibility. There was only one thing he needed to do and that was to get free.

Suddenly he was flipped over, strong hands pulled him to his feet and held him from behind. Tony watched as Mister Saunders stepped from the limo. He screamed his frustration and Mister Saunders smiled. He stepped forward and Tony cringed away, back into the strong body behind him. Tony struggled against the man holding him and kicked his legs. The man holding him cursed softly and then wrapped one foot around Tony’s legs, hobbling him immediately.

Mister Saunders stepped forward and then so did Mister Marshall. So the driver was holding him. He hadn’t really noticed the man before other than to see that he was wearing a uniform and holding the door of the limo open. He hadn’t noticed how _big_ he was – or must be, since Tony wasn’t really a little kid and he wasn’t a wimp even if Manny did like calling him a wuss – and yet this man was immobilizing him as if he was a toddler. It was infuriating.

Mister Saunders reached for Tony, holding a strip of leather in his hands, and Tony jerked his head back. Mister Marshall was quick and grasped his head before he could smash it into the driver’s face. Tony growled, pissed that he hadn’t thought of it before. Maybe that would have given him his chance to get away. Now he might never know – unless one of them screwed up. These men were professionals and Tony knew it was unlikely, but he could hope.

It took three of them to wrap the collar around his throat and he nipped a finger as they muzzled him, taking away the only weapon left at his disposal – yelling for help. He grunted and twisted in the driver’s grasp but it didn’t stop Mister Marshall from stripping him naked and shackling him; his arms behind his back and a chain running down to the chain between his cuffed ankles.

The struggle in the parking lot of the convenience store had taken place in broad daylight, in the middle of the afternoon, in fact. And yet no one had run to Tony’s aid. In fact, as he looked around, the few people in the area avoided his desperate gaze and hurried away.

He cried out behind the muzzle, struggling against the hands holding him. Why was no one helping? Why did no one care?

“The owner will allow us to use the restroom, Mister Saunders.”

Tony looked at Mister Marshall – really looked. He then looked at Mister Saunders. The two men were wearing obviously expensive suits but what made Tony pause was the insignia on the breast pocket. It was the Jensen International logo – and it hadn’t been there when he had been picked up at school. He would have noticed. No, it looked like the logo had been pinned on since then. Clever – and it explained why they had been able to walk through the school without having everyone freak out. The logo was well known – but it wouldn’t be enough to stop people in the parking lot from asking about his well-being. It was then that he saw the badges and his hopes were extinguished. No one would dare question someone wearing a slaver’s badge. It would be foolhardy in the extreme and it was actually illegal to hassle a licensed, badge-wearing professional slaver. Damn. He was well and truly screwed.

Angry tears stood in Tony’s eyes as he was hauled across the parking lot – thankfully, paved and not gravel. His face burned with shame at being paraded naked and chained on the end of a leash but there wasn’t a whole hell of a lot he could actually do about it. Even so, he hung his head as he shuffled along as fast as his short chains would allow.

It was no wonder slaves didn’t look up or around. They were too ashamed and didn’t want to see the disgust in anyone’s eyes. Not that he had ever looked at slaves that way – but that was the way he felt now. He was sure anyone who could see him would think he was a disgusting animal – because that was exactly what he felt like.

The tile floor of the convenience store felt cold against his bare feet, especially after the almost uncomfortable warmth of the pavement outside. The shop seemed almost deserted and Tony prayed the men’s room would be as well.

He was lucky in that the men’s room was a private affair. He felt less lucky when Mister Saunders accompanied him inside, pulling the door closed behind them and nodding to Mister Marshall, who waited outside. He was tugged toward the only urinal in the room and Tony waited for Mister Saunders to unfasten the chains around his wrists. Instead, Mister Saunders maneuvered Tony up close to the urinal and stepped up behind him, reaching around to grasp Tony’s penis firmly. Tony squeaked.

“Piss, Tony.”

Tony protested unintelligibly behind the muzzle and Mister Saunders chuckled.

“Come on, boy. Piss – now.”

And he waited while Tony counted silently in his head. Tony thought there was no way in hell he was going to be able to piss with some stranger holding his dick. No way.

Mister Saunders placed a hand lightly on Tony’s abdomen, right above his pubic bone – and pressed gently but firmly. Tony was shocked to feel his bladder let loose. Shocked and mortified.

“Good boy.”

_Arf,_ Tony thought angrily.

Tony knew he shouldn’t have been surprised but he was. There was a medium sized dog cage in the back of the limo and Mister Saunders ordered him into it. Tony shook his head stubbornly.

Mister Saunders took a step closer to Tony and Tony could feel the tips of the man’s shoes against his bare toes. “Did you think your little outburst would go unpunished, Tony? I am going to remove this leash and then I will rearrange your shackles. When I’m finished you will crawl into that transport cage like a good little slave – or you can ride in the trunk, trussed up like a Christmas goose. There is plenty of room now that we’ve assembled the cage in the passenger compartment.” He paused, Tony assumed for effect. “So what will it be; trunk or cage?”

Tony blinked back tears. Surely they couldn’t just stuff him in the trunk? But after one more look into Mister Saunders’ eyes, he knew that this was exactly where he’d be spending the remainder of the trip if he wasn’t careful. He nodded once and hoped Mister Saunders understood.

“Good. Now turn around so I can get you set.”

Tony turned, blinking away tears of frustration. If his father had been within arms’ reach, he could have easily killed him.

“I’m going to give you a specific set of instructions, Tony – and I need for you to follow them to the letter. Do you understand?”

Tony sighed softly and nodded. What was he supposed to do? The three men had already proved that they could and would whup his ass if he gave them any trouble. Besides, he sincerely doubted that they would be stupid enough to unchain his feet and hands at the same time so what was he supposed to do – and where was he supposed to go in this po-dunk little burg?

“The first thing I’m going to do is replace the metal cuffs with leather ones. They are much more comfortable and will be easier to travel in.”

Tony huffed out an aggravated breath. How the hell would any of them know whether the leather cuffs were comfortable or not? He’d bet his left nut none of them had ever been stripped naked and forced into shackles. Tony felt hands at his ankles and he tried not to flinch at the touch. They put the leather cuffs on him before removing the metal ones and he could tell the chain was no longer than the one that had caused him to take little mincing steps into the store before.

Leather cuffs were fastened around his wrists and then the metal ones were removed. Tony was shocked when his arms fell to his sides.

“Take a minute to roll your shoulders – but be careful. No big movements. Nothing threatening.”

Tony carefully moved, stretching out his shoulders and arms.

“Now, put your hands behind your head; lace your fingers together.”

Tony complied and his cuffs were fastened together. Another breath and he was told to climb into the limo. When he looked inside, he saw Mister Marshall already seated. The door to the cage was open – waiting for him.

“Hands and knees, Tony. Easy as pie. Get on in there so we can get back on the road.”

Tony took a hiccupping breath, exhaling on a soft sob, before dropping to his hands and knees on the floorboards of the limo and crawling forward. The cage wasn’t very big and felt even tinier when the cage door was closed and padlocked. There was a soft blanket on the floor of the cage but Tony could still feel the wire mesh press against his skin. He supposed he should be thankful for small mercies since he could well imagine how uncomfortable it would be without the padding of the blanket. Conjuring up thankfulness seemed out of his reach, however, and he buried his head against his knees and concentrated on nothing more than his next breath.

“Hey.”

Tony lifted his head, not realizing until then that he’d been silently crying. He sniffed loudly and wiped his bound hands over his face. Mister Saunders was holding a handkerchief out and Tony stared at it blankly for a moment before looking at Mister Saunders.

“Take it. Blow your nose.”

Tony reached out, his movement hampered by the cuffs and chains, and he bit back a sob of frustration. He wouldn’t give the bastards the satisfaction. After using the handkerchief he handed it back to Mister Saunders _because, apparently, he couldn’t be trusted with a handkerchief_. _Maybe he’d use it to pick the lock on the cage._ Tony sighed softly and lowered his head again. He didn’t want to watch his captors. Maybe if he ignored them he could forget – at least for a little while.

~*~

Tony was jolted awake a while later and he pushed himself up into a seated position. He was stiff and sore and didn’t have enough room to stretch out fully, which made him cranky – and he couldn’t even voice his displeasure because of the stupid muzzle. He snorted through his nose. He was chained and naked and caged and – probably wouldn’t say anything if given the chance unless it was reflex and then he’d just get beaten because he was a slave now. A slave. How the fuck did things get so fucked up so quickly?

Oh yeah – his _loving_ father.

The car had stopped. Maybe that was what had woken him. Tony looked around. It was late; the sky was dark but the area around the car was light. Crouched in the cage as he was, Tony couldn’t get a good look at his surroundings and it frustrated him.

Tony watched as Mister Saunders stretched, jealous of the other man’s freedom to do so. Mister Marshall exited the car and Tony strained to see something beyond the small confined space. A soft chuckle made him growl in frustration as he turned to face Mister Saunders again.

Mister Saunders raised an eyebrow. “A reaction like that can get you beaten.”

Tony looked away, anger and shame warring for his attention.

“Knees.”

Tony frowned and hesitated for just a moment before the look on Mister Saunders’ face made him comply with the order. His hands naturally rested in his lap because of the cuffs and he instinctively covered his groin.

“Hands behind your head.”

Tony blushed and shifted on his knees. He didn’t want to obey – not this time. He wasn’t ready to bare himself even if they had bared him hours earlier.

“Now.”

The barking tone made Tony flinch away even as he slowly complied with the order. His eyes filled with tears and he blinked angrily as he glared up at Mister Saunders. He was sure his hatred shone from his eyes and yet the man simply smiled at him. Bastard.

~*~

Tony’s introduction to the training facility in Washington, D.C. was both terrifying and exhilarating. The exhilaration of an adrenalin rush was overshadowed by terror as Tony was processed into the system, getting a slave tattoo and a tracker implanted before he was led any further into the building past the first two large intake rooms. He was showered, scrubbed, deloused, and his entire body was shaved bare and then he saw a physician before he was leashed again and silently led through the halls of the imposing building.

At least his muzzle had been removed since it was “in the way” and interfered with the medical screening. He was too traumatized to say anything anyway. He’d had things done to him that he’d never dreamed of, even in his worst nightmares. Sure, he’d heard of prostate exams before, but he had assumed it would be his choice – and when he was much older – when a stranger’s fingers were shoved up his ass. He had played around with a special friend in school and he was pretty sure he was gay – or maybe bi since the thought of a woman didn’t freak him out too much – but he was of the mind that prostate massages should only be done consensually. This was not consensual in any way, shape or form, and it had freaked him out more than he wanted to admit.

Tony concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, his step hampered by the short chain between his ankles. The floor was cool against his feet but the air wasn’t too chilly. He supposed the temperature was regulated in deference to the naked slaves. After all, they wouldn’t want the slaves to get sick.

One foot in front of the other. Breathe in. Breathe out. Blink. Repeat. In this manner they trudged along, down one unending corridor after another, until Tony was quite sure he was lost in the depths of a maze – and one he could never hope to escape.

“In you go.”

Tony hadn’t even realized they had stopped walking until the man spoke. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember the man’s name – maybe he hadn’t been told it. Mister Saunders had merely surrendered him with a signature to what looked like a log sheet on a clipboard at the front desk. He’d then handed Tony’s leash to another man and had turned and walked away. Job finished, Tony supposed, but it would have been nice to have been acknowledged one last time. Mister Marshall hadn’t even entered the building. He’d held the door open, most likely making sure Tony didn’t give Mister Saunders any trouble, and then he had disappeared.

“Not going to give me any trouble, are you, boy?”

Tony blinked in surprise, his gaze quickly going to the baton at the man’s waist. The man fondled the baton lightly and Tony shook his head. Nope – no trouble from him. He held up his cuffed hands and the man snorted.

“Not tonight, kid. Maybe tomorrow, if you can prove you are able to behave yourself.” He gestured with his head. “Now get in so I can get on with my duties. Get some rest. Someone will be back for you in the morning.” Tony peered into the tiny room and then looked back at the man, who shook his head slowly before unclipping the leash from Tony’s collar. “In you go now.”

It took all he had to pick up his foot and set it that much closer to the door. The next step wasn’t much easier, but a few steps was all it took and then Tony spun around quickly as the door locked behind him. He took a step forward, instinctively reaching for the door – but there was no door handle and the tiny window with wire mesh in it was covered on the outside.

The thought of pounding on the door and demanding to be released flashed through his mind, but then Tony remembered the baton and let his hands fall again. He turned to survey his surroundings.

The room was tiny and windowless. There was a stainless steel bowl set into the wall to the right of the door which Tony assumed was the toilet since the height was right. There was another smaller bowl slightly higher and to the left of the toilet. Tony peered into it and noted a small button which, when touched, produced a trickle of water. There was no soap.

Sighing, Tony turned to face the left hand wall. His toes almost touched the thin pallet that took up more than half the floor space. There was no pillow or blanket but it was obviously meant to be slept on. He sniffled back tears.

“No feeling sorry for yourself, DiNozzo,” he muttered as he finished turning, facing the closed door again before turning back to face the pallet. There wouldn’t even be room enough to stretch out, but it beat sleeping on the cold floor.

Having nothing else to occupy his time, Tony laid back on the pallet. It wasn’t soft but it looked clean. That was something, right? He laced his fingers behind his head, his knees bent slightly to compensate for the lack of space, and stared up at the ceiling. The lights were on, recessed into the ceiling and covered with a fine wire mesh. The ceiling was high, too high to reach actually, and he was six feet tall. The wire mesh seemed like overkill but he could imagine that the slaves would get pretty inventive if it meant a chance to escape. Maybe he would even feel that way – once he could feel again.

As he stared, the lights dimmed until they barely cast any light at all. Tony supposed they kept them on just enough for the slaves to take a piss, should they need to in the middle of the night. At least it wasn’t fully dark. He really didn’t like the dark. With a sigh, Tony turned on his side, pillowing his head on his bound hands. His naked skull felt strange to his touch and he shuddered. He didn’t think he would be able to sleep at all.

*~*

A loud klaxon woke Tony and he was on his feet before he realized he was awake. The lights were on high again, and he groaned as he brought his hands to his face and rubbed at his eyes. He turned, stumbling when his chains brought his step up short, and he swore softly as he moved to stand in front of the toilet. He relieved himself, pressed the button to flush, and then rinsed his hands in the trickle of water before sticking his head under it and lapping at the lukewarm water.

A disembodied voice startled him and he spun around, looking for the source. “On your knees in the center of the cell.”

Tony stared up at the ceiling.

“Doors opening in three – two – ”

Tony dropped to his knees quickly, not wanting to test the system – yet.

“One.”

Tony looked up as the cover over the window was opened. It was closed again almost as quickly and then the door opened.

“Hands behind your head, slave. Eyes on the floor.”

Tony complied quickly. His one glance at the man had shown him a scowling, bearded face – and he was intimidated immediately. His teeth worried at his bottom lip as he tried not to panic at his situation.

A tray was set on the floor in front of him. “Eat up. You have fifteen minutes and then the tray will be removed.”

The door slammed and Tony stared down at the cardboard tray. There was a plastic cup of orange juice covered with a foil seal, a slice of wheat toast, and oatmeal. He had a paper napkin and a plastic spoon. Looking at it, he wanted to cry. Instead, he picked up the spoon and took a bite of the oatmeal. It was cold. Tony ground his teeth together for a moment before setting the spoon down and picking up the toast. Cold or not, it had to be better than the oatmeal.

Tony couldn’t tell how much time had passed but he was assuming it was fifteen minutes when the door opened again.

“Hands behind your head.”

Tony wondered if it was a rule for every time the door opened – but he didn’t ask.

“You didn’t eat your breakfast.”

Tony didn’t answer, unsure if he was supposed to – and what could he say to that anyway? It was the truth. He hadn’t eaten the slop they had given him.

The man picked up the tray. “Bend forward and rest your forehead on the floor.”

Tony glanced up until he caught a glimpse of the man’s frown. He bent forward carefully, using his hands for balance.

“I didn’t tell you to move your hands.”

The harsh voice startled him and he almost fell forward onto his face but Tony caught himself in time. He rested his forehead on the floor and then put his hands behind his head again. Tony heard footsteps moving away but he didn’t hear the door close.

“Ass in the air. I want you on your knees so you feel it.”

Tony had slumped back slightly but he got into position as best as he could without the use of his hands. After a moment, strong hands moved his legs back an inch or so, putting more pressure on his knee caps and forehead. It seemed like all of his weight was balanced on three tiny points – and he began to ache very quickly: his knees, his head, his arms. He shifted minutely and a hard hand slapped down on his unprotected backside.

“I didn’t tell you to move.”

Tony stilled, almost afraid to breathe. He listened for any sound but didn’t hear any. Had the man stayed? Was he gone? As far as he knew, the door was still open: he hadn’t heard it close. Occasionally he heard movement in the hallway, voices. But the pain in his knees, head, arms, and back muted everything. His world was condensed down to the three points of contact with the cement floor, the aches in his muscles secondary to that sharp pain.

Sweat ran into his eyes, stinging them, and he fought to keep his balance as his muscles seemed to melt from exhaustion.

“Sit back.”

Tony sank down onto his haunches but couldn’t find the strength to sit up while keeping his hands behind his head. He struggled for a moment before sighing softly and just settling down against his legs.

“Use your hands if you must – and then get back into position.”

Tony pushed himself up with his arms, struggling against the painful movement. Once he was upright, he rested the chain behind his head again. At least he didn’t have to struggle to hold his hands there, cuffed as they were. It felt like he’d been in the awful position forever. His back ached, his knees looked and felt like they were bruised and he was pretty sure he had a big red spot on his forehead where it had been in contact with the floor.

“It’s time for lunch. You may use the toilet if you need. You have fifteen minutes.”

Tony looked up as the door to his cell closed. It was lunch time already – and that meant it had been at least a few hours since he’d refused his breakfast. No wonder he felt like he’d been run over by a steam roller.

The tray on the floor in front of him contained a small cardboard carton of milk and the bowl of oatmeal he had refused to eat for breakfast, his spoon still stuck in it where he’d left it. The oatmeal looked even more unappetizing than it had earlier. Tony wondered just how long they would continue to serve it to him before they tried something else or if he should just give in and eat it. Maybe the next meal would actually be palatable.

Tony choked down the oatmeal, drank the milk, and used the toilet. He was barely back in position when the door opened again.

“Good boy.”

Tony bit his lip to keep from saying something sarcastic. This place was full of new rules and punishments, and he needed to figure it all out if he was to get out of there; the rules, the staff, the hierarchy -- everything.

“May I ask a question?”

“No.”

Tony bit his lip. He wasn’t used to being quiet and just going with the flow. He was a thinker. He asked. He questioned. He talked. A lot. This forced silence was getting to him.

The hated leash was clipped to Tony’s collar and a sharp tug had him struggling to get to his feet. The leash was fastened to a ring set just outside the door to his cell. Tony looked around quickly, not wanting to get in trouble but too curious not to try to get a look at his surroundings. Besides, he hadn’t been told not to look.

The man chuckled softly and walked around behind Tony, making him tense. He twisted around to see what the man was doing but got reprimanded pretty quickly and told to turn around and look straight ahead. The chain linking Tony’s wrist cuffs was removed and he was told to stretch out his arms and shoulders. His cuffs were clipped behind his back and the chain between his ankle cuffs was replaced with one that would allow him to walk a little easier – and then the man took up his leash and gave it a tug. Tony supposed that that was the only signal he was going to get to follow, so he did. From the size of the man, Tony knew he could just as easily have dragged him along.

They passed a few other slaves being led on leashes and Tony looked around, eager for stimulation after being alone since the night before. He wanted to learn as much as possible about the place he was in so he could get out. The other slaves didn’t meet his frank stares. They never looked up from their contemplation of the floor they walked on, their steps measured, their backs straight, head lowered, arms cuffed behind them. Not all wore chains at their ankles that rattled on the floor like Tony did – and the ones that were shackled in this manner didn’t make the noise Tony did. He barely registered the noise or lack thereof, however. He was more interested in their faces.

The slaves seemed to all be of an age similar to him, but without hair everyone looked the same, even the girls. He actually had to look at their bodies to see who was what; boobs, crotches – whatever worked. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Tony was still staring around when he was led into an opulent office. Only the change from tile floor to plush carpet caught his attention, and he smiled a little as he dug his toes in.

“Comfy?”

The growling voice made Tony still and he turned around, seeking out the owner of the voice.

“Well, Mister Saunders said you would be a handful.”

Tony blushed and bit his lip as he fidgeted under the stare from the intimidating man sitting behind a huge desk made out of dark cherry wood. His suit was impeccable, as was his hair. Tony would have bet the man worked out and got a weekly manicure and massage. He obviously worked at appearing perfect. Maybe it was to intimidate the slaves – and Tony had to admit it was working. He was never more aware of his total nudity and vulnerability.

“Turn around.”

Tony blinked at the order and then a tug on the leash told him he needed to move. He turned his back to the man at the desk.

“Keep going.”

Tony sighed softly. Of course the man wanted the full picture and Tony had just failed the first test in this new place. He had the feeling that stupidity wouldn’t be tolerated in a place like this. He was a commodity now and they would expect him to learn the rules and follow them. Too bad that was the one thing he’d never been very good at.

~*~

After spending nearly thirty minutes in Director Davis’ office, Tony was happy to be dismissed. He had found that, if he stared just over the man’s shoulder he could see the clock’s reflection in the mirror on the wall – and he had been mesmerized by the slow crawling minute hand. And then Zach (the man who had dragged him to the office in the first place) had noticed his inattention and had put him on his knees again, ass in the air, forehead on the floor. Apparently that was the favored punishment position around here. Tony was pretty sure he’d get the chance to experience it often.

It didn’t take long for Tony to figure out that Zach had been assigned to him. Apparently he was his new trainer and handler. He was supposed to teach Tony how to be a slave. Tony pitied the man a little because he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be easy to train.

Kneel. Stand. Head up. Eyes down. No talking. No covering up. No jerking off. (That last rule had seen him hogtied for days whenever he was in his cell.)

Tony was chained most of the time and, when he wasn’t, he was taught to keep his hands clasped behind his back. He learned to walk properly on the hated leash: it couldn’t be too taut or hang too loosely. He couldn’t walk on the backs of his trainer’s shoes. He had to learn to stop when Zach stopped, walk when Zach walked, kneel properly when Zach had no use for him. He had to learn to exist for his trainer. It was the most difficult time of his life.

And then Zach declared him trained and passed him on to Fred. Zach was easy to please, though. The basics were easy to learn if degrading. Fred was supposed to “polish” him, though, and Tony fought it every step of the way. He was labeled “difficult” and his ass was striped enough to prove it. But eventually Fred passed him on to James, and Tony breathed a sigh of relief. It was James’ job to teach him to anticipate his owner’s needs. He tried but Tony just couldn’t accept what he was now, so how was he to learn to anticipate anything? James finally passed him on to Luis. Luis passed him off to Clem and Clem passed him off to Sean. Through it all, Tony managed to nurse his hatred for the training center and the trainers even while pretending to learn all they had to teach him.

Some were better than others. Some were nice and some were sadistic and, through it all, Tony managed to hold onto that one small piece of himself that harbored the need to escape his fate. He played the game and “learned his place” – and wore a mask that convinced almost everyone that he was trying to become a good slave. He left them all with something as well – a little bit of frustration. He reveled in being a difficult slave to train, even if it meant being punished more than was probably prudent. It also meant his trainers couldn’t wait to pass him off to the next guy since they were convinced he was untrainable or stupid.

 

And then came the day that Sean handed him off to Claude with no more than a pat on the shoulder. Tony was surprised to find that he was sad to see Sean walk away – and he was shocked when Claude slapped him across the face for breaking form by staring after his former trainer. His new trainer then immediately ordered him into the punishment position. At least he was used to it by now and he could hold it for a long time now. He just hadn’t known that his training records detailed just how long he could hold the position. Claude was clearly determined to teach him a lesson, because Tony felt as if he was in that position forever and he wasn’t able to actually stand up when he was finally allowed out of the position again.

Claude joked that it was okay that Tony couldn’t stand because he wasn’t going to be allowed to anyway. It was time to “step up his training”. This meant that Tony had to follow Claude everywhere on his hands and knees. He was muzzled when he complained about the pain in his knees and he was spanked across the ass with a cane when he dared to look up at another slave who was walking past in the corridor. Tony was positive that Claude was just leading him places because he could and not because he had any business there. He was teaching Tony “his place”.

Tony was shaved whenever there was a hint of stubble and showered every three days. He both loved and hated those showers because it was the only time other than when he was relieving himself that he was allowed to stand. Claude loved to tell him that things could be worse and Tony could believe it when he dared to look into the trainer’s eyes. How they could be worse was beyond him but Claude also like to tell stories of slaves kept on their knees for everything from showering to shitting. Apparently he was being nice to Tony by letting him stand occasionally.

After about five days, Claude had allowed Tony to use knee pads. After three more days, when Tony had tried to stand on his own to stretch out during his lunch break, Claude had added thigh cuffs, pulling his feet up off the floor and making it impossible for Tony to straighten his legs out at all. Tony couldn’t help but want Sean back. At least with Sean, Tony knew what was expected of him and he was treated like a person. Claude treated him like an animal, plain and simple. He didn’t even feed him regularly – especially when he was “punishing” him for some imagined transgression.

Every few days Claude would drop Tony off at a class, affixing his leash to a tie point set in the wall and leaving him to kneel on the floor, chained and muzzled. It was the only time that Tony had to himself and he would usually zone out a little while the instructor droned on about whatever subject he happened to be teaching that day. One day, however, Tony’s attention was captured by the instructor when he began talking about “how to please your Master”. The talk quickly became about giving blow jobs and getting fucked, and Tony had a quiet breakdown in the corner when he realized just what his life was going to be like.

Claude was looking pretty smug when he dragged him out of the classroom and Tony knew it was because he was looking forward to raping him later. But, for right now, it was time for Tony’s next physical assessment and Claude griped the entire way to the doctor’s office. Tony couldn’t believe it had been another month already – or, rather, he couldn’t believe it had only been a month. It felt like years since he’d been able to stand and move around, not merely weeks.

Tony was left in the doctor’s outer office, chained to a tie point. Claude took away his knee pads and put him into punishment position and then walked out, leaving him to wait for the doctor alone. Tony didn’t know what he’d done to deserve the punishment but it must have been something. He also didn’t know how long he would be waiting. Claude never told him anything. If it had been any of his other trainers, they would have explained Tony’s transgression to him and they would have told him how long the wait for the doctor would be. Now, the only thing Tony could do was endure. He couldn’t call for help because he was muzzled. He couldn’t move out of position because he didn’t know if Claude was watching, hoping to catch him doing something he shouldn’t.

Living in a state of constant fear was exhausting, and Tony could only hope that he changed trainers again soon because he wasn’t sure how long he could endure this shit and stay sane. Claude was breaking him apart bit by bit, piece by tiny piece, and Tony didn’t want to lose who he was on top of losing his freedom. If his asshole father wanted to put him in chains to save his own sorry ass, there wasn’t much he could do about it – but surviving the ordeal in one piece was the only revenge he could muster, and that was being systematically taken away from him. He fucking hated Claude.

~*~

Tony’s wish came true, but not because his time with Claude was finished. It was more that Claude was finished – at the training center.

When the doctor finally came out to get Tony, he had been in punishment position for over two hours. That, along with the thigh cuffs that never came off, had made Tony so lame that he couldn’t stand at all. The doctor swore quite eloquently as he removed the restraints, actually using a bolt cutter to cut the locks off since Claude was nowhere to be found.

Tony’s bruises were photographed and catalogued, and then he was shackled to a bed in the infirmary and sedated. He spent three days there, even pissing in a jug as he wasn’t allowed out of bed at all. Every day after those first three days he was put through his paces by Dave from the center’s physical therapy department. Tony hated Dave at first. It _hurt_ to get up, damn it! But it didn’t take long for Tony to realize that Dave was helping – and the man had magic fingers. After each session, Dave massaged Tony’s legs – and daily, he got a full-body massage.

During his time with Claude, Tony had lost an alarming amount of weight and his routine while in the infirmary also included healthy, calorie-heavy meals. The first couple of meals, he couldn’t believe that he would actually be allowed to eat – but once he started, he could barely stop himself from wolfing everything down. It was Juan, the orderly’s job to feed Tony those first few days. Tony had never been hand-fed before and it was infinitely embarrassing to him. But food was food and Tony soon pushed his embarrassment aside and began to enjoy the food, even if it didn’t come quickly enough.

Juan called Tony “pequeño pájaro” and told him it was because of the way he opened his mouth, begging for the next forkful of food. Tony blushed – and kept his thoughts to himself for fear of losing the privilege of eating again. But the food kept coming at regular intervals and, by the time his fifth day in the infirmary rolled around, his breakfast tray was set on the rolling table in front of him and he was admonished to “take it slow” – and then Juan walked away, letting Tony feed himself.

Tony’s hand shook as he picked up his fork and he ached to rush through the tray of food before someone took it away from him, but he wasn’t a fool. That was the very thing that would happen _if_ he rushed. However counter-intuitive it seemed, Tony knew he needed to take his time eating this meal or he’d be fed like a baby bird again for the foreseeable future. Instead of rushing, Tony savored every bite.

Almost as soon as Tony set his spoon down for the last time, pushing the rolling table away slightly, Juan was there to pick up the mostly empty tray.

“You done good, kid.”

Tony blushed and looked down at his hands. He felt a little foolish for the praise – and yet it warmed his heart a bit as well. The stroke to his ego wasn’t unwelcome – and how pathetic was it that all it took was an “atta boy” for him to blush like a school-girl?

“You okay, Tony?”

Tony looked up in surprise. Juan was staring at him, his head cocked to one side. “I – I –”

Juan rubbed his head affectionately. “It’s okay, kid. Just relax. If you overthink everything you’re just going to make things harder.”

Tony knew what Juan was talking about but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. It was his nature to overthink things, and being in this place had turned his brain on high – and it seemed to be stuck there. No matter that he’d been at the training center for months now, he still tried to analyze everything. He couldn’t seem to help it. Now Juan was telling him what he already knew – to get through, he had to let go. But he couldn’t seem to do it. It looked like he was destined to make his time in this place as difficult for himself as possible but he didn’t know how to change that. He bit his lip and looked down at his lap as Juan walked away with the tray.

He napped a little and then Dave was there for his first physical therapy session of the day. He was getting stronger but his balance still sucked and his knees were stiff and sore. He was hobbling around the hallways in the infirmary, using Dave’s arm for support, when the door opened and someone walked in.

Tony’s steps faltered as he watched the stranger walk toward the doctor’s office. Dave admonished him to pay attention to what he was doing, and Tony stammered out an apology as he concentrated on his journey around the infirmary. As much as he tried to keep his mind focused on what he was doing, he kept stealing glances toward the closed door to the office. He couldn’t help but wonder who the man was and what he was doing there.

In the time that Tony had been at the training center, he had learned to soak in as much detail as he possibly could without seeming too interested. It was a self-defense mechanism as it was easier to deal with things when he could anticipate them. Surprises were never good.

“Hold onto the railing and lift your left leg.”

Tony blinked. He hadn’t been paying attention to Dave and the order threw him off balance for a moment. He grabbed the railing along the wall and lifted his left leg off the floor.

“Bend your knee more. Pull your knee toward your chest.”

Tony closed his eyes and grunted with the effort of bending his stiff leg and raising his knee higher. His legs ached when he tried to straighten them as well as when he bent them. Being bound in one position for so long had frozen his joints. It would take some time to undo the damage.

“Hold it.” Dave’s instruction was accompanied by a strong hand grasping his shin and applying pressure, helping Tony bend the knee more and lifting the leg higher. “Hold it – and don’t forget to breathe.”

Tony struggled to hold his knee up as Dave lessened his hold. Tony’s leg shook with the effort and it began to drop slightly.

“That’s great, Tony. Relax now. Let your leg down and find your balance again.”

Tony took a breath, disgusted with the fact that he was breathing hard from the effort it took to lift his leg off the ground and hold the position. He had messed up his knee a year ago in a football game but it had healed fine, and it pissed him off that he felt weak as a kitten now from just a few weeks on his knees. He should be stronger than this.

“Are you steady enough to try the other leg?”

Tony gritted his teeth and nodded. This would not beat him. He was strong. He could do this.

Tony was standing like a stork, his right knee to his chest, when the door to the doctor’s office opened. He nearly lost his balance when the man he’d seen enter the office stopped to stare at him for a moment, his bright blue eyes boring into Tony as if he was trying to read his mind. Tony froze, his breath stuttered to a stop, and then the man nodded once and turned to leave. Tony dropped his leg to the floor and gripped the railing tightly. Holy hell – who was that?

A hand on his shoulder startled Tony and he looked up quickly as he twisted away ever so slightly. Dave held up his hands. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Tony looked away. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Are you okay?”

Tony nodded. “J-just tired, I guess. Can I sit for a bit?”

Dave stared at him for a minute before nodding and offering his arm to help Tony across the room and into bed. “Get some rest. I’ll be back in two hours and, next time, you get to walk without holding onto me.”

Tony smiled. It would be nice not to feel like an invalid. He just hoped he didn’t fall flat on his face trying.

~*~

It was slow going, but in two weeks’ time Tony was walking on the treadmill and taking his first tentative running steps as well. It felt amazing to be getting back in shape. Sure, he’d lost his cushy bed in the infirmary after a week, but he hadn’t been shoved back in his tiny little cell either. Instead, he was transferred to a rehab wing. He slept in a bed that felt more like a cot from his camping days but the cage was bigger than his cell had been and he could actually walk around inside it. He liked that the walls were simple mesh and he liked that he wasn’t chained to the bed at night, even if the infirmary bed had been softer. This felt like freedom and he could look down the row of cages – and appreciate that he was the only slave in this wing at the moment. Blessed silence.

Tony paced a little in his cage before crawling into the bed and pulling the light blanket up over his naked and newly shaved body. The handlers didn’t like to see stubble and he was groomed every few days. That routine had been interrupted while he’d been in the infirmary and he was itchy as hell by the time he’d been strapped down into the barber’s chair.

Dave had told Tony there were a couple of hundred kids at the training center but the most he’d seen at one time had been maybe ten, and that had been in one of the classes Claude had taken him to. Granted, his range was limited but he only ever saw one or two other slaves in the hallway at the same time. The schedule must be meticulously planned to keep them from interacting. Hell, even looking at another slave in the hallway was frowned upon. Claude had once caned him for staring at another slave. He had also taken Tony’s sight away for three days. The hood had been the scariest thing that had been done to him by far. Losing his sight had more than freaked him out, and he was very careful not to get caught looking again.

Something was bothering Tony and yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. As he stared up at the ceiling he thought back over the events of the day. Events. Happenings. Nothing around the training center was an event. It was all boring as hell and Tony couldn’t wait until someone lowered their guard enough for him to make a break for it. He had enough friends he could turn to that would help him get out of the country. Maybe he’d settle in Mexico. All he had to do was hold on a little longer. Then he would go to Manny. Manny was his best friend. There was no way he’d turn down a chance to help Tony out, especially since he couldn’t stand Tony’s father.

Then it dawned on Tony what was niggling at the back of his mind. Dave had been quiet today. He hadn’t joked around with Tony as he put him through his paces like he usually did. He didn’t just treat him like a patient today. Dave had treated him like a slave, albeit an injured slave. There were no friendly overtures, no subtle jokes, and no pats of affection. For the life of him he couldn’t imagine what had changed.

Tony held his breath as the reality crashed down on him. He was all alone. He had no friends inside this awful place. All he had were his plans to escape – and the hope that Manny would take him in. Tony turned on his side, pulling his knees to his chest. When he closed his eyes, they were wet. Being alone hurt.

Tony didn’t think he would sleep but dreams haunted him all night. In those dreams he relived his best moments and his worst. He saw himself laughing and playing with his cousins in England on a trip with his mother to visit her parents. He saw himself crying beside her casket not two years later. And he saw himself gorging on room service in Hawaii after his father had gone off with a local dancer and left him alone in the penthouse suite. He had lived the high life for ten days before his father remembered he still had a son and came back for him. And his ass had borne the stripes of his father’s belt after he had realized Tony had rung up a $5,000 bill. He’d been nothing if not his father’s son.

And now he wasn’t. His father had abandoned him once again, only this time it was deliberate and meant to save his own worthless hide. Tony cried out in his dream, begging his laughing father to be allowed to carry the slop bucket for his friends again. Anything but this. Anything.

Tony was awakened by the customary loud klaxon and he scrambled from his bed, a little slowly since he had gotten tangled in the blanket during the night. He’d been admonished not to kneel on a hard floor until his physical therapist cleared him so he stood in the middle of the cell, his hands clasped behind his back, his feet shoulder width apart, and his chin lowered. He stared at a point on the floor about a foot in front of his toes – and he waited.

After a few minutes he heard measured footsteps approaching. Each step echoed in the cavernous room, and Tony could have sworn that he could feel the staccato beat in his chest; his heart beating in time with the sound. As much as he tried to appear unaffected, Tony knew he was lying to himself. He just hoped whomever was approaching wouldn’t be able to see it.

As he pondered just who the footsteps belonged to (because they were not a step he was familiar with), Tony saw the toes of shiny black shoes stop in front of his cage. He couldn’t see the person because they were just far enough away that he would have to break form to get even a glimpse. It was infuriating. It was even more infuriating as the minutes dragged on with the person not making a sound or moving. For all Tony knew, someone had slipped the shoes into place and then snuck out, leaving him to contemplate the toes of the shiny leather.

Tony could feel the sweat forming on his brow and he gritted his teeth, clenching his muscles to keep from fidgeting. He needed to know who stood there! And why would they just stare at him, not saying a word? What was their purpose?

“I can’t make you kneel – yet, but I can make you hold position. Don’t overthink things. Just be.”

The voice was smooth – and completely foreign to Tony. Who was this? He was beginning to hyperventilate from the tension and he swayed slightly. The sound of the cage door opening startled Tony and he flinched when strong hands gripped his arms and pressed him back to the cot.

“Sit.” The voice was gentle but forceful and Tony sat ungracefully, almost collapsing onto the cot. A strong hand grasped the back of his neck and pressed forward. “Breathe – slowly. Deep breath in...and let it out. Good boy.”

Tony felt his body begin to calm under the direction of this man and he sighed softly as he bent forward over his knees.

The hand patted his back. “Better?”

Tony nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Now sit up. We need to talk.”

Tony sat up, afraid to raise his gaze. His hands were trembling and he cursed silently at his show of weakness.

The man stepped away, standing in front of Tony again. “Look at me.”

Tony looked up and barely managed to stifle his gasp of surprise. It was the man from the infirmary. What was he doing here, in his cell?

“I’m Gibbs, your new trainer.”

Well, damn. How did he get so lucky? This one was easy on the eyes – and he seemed nice enough as well. Maybe this one would be easier to deal with. He could only hope. After all, he’d had high hopes for Claude as well. At least this one seemed sane.

Gibbs smirked as if he could read Tony’s thoughts, and Tony fought the urge to fidget. “Don’t think this will be easy, boy. Just because Claude isn’t coming back for you doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on your training. You have a long way to go before you’re fully trained and we’re way behind the eight ball here.”

Tony took a breath. This man was drop dead gorgeous – for an older guy. He had to be ten, maybe twelve years older than him but that just made him sexier in Tony’s eyes. Gibbs’ hair was just beginning to go gray, the dark brown going salt and pepper with some striking silver at the temples. Even though he had to be pushing thirty, Gibbs didn’t look soft at all. In fact, he carried himself with an almost military air and Tony wondered just what made this man tick.

“Don’t think you can figure me out or get under my skin. I see hundreds of slaves pass through here and I do my job.” Gibbs smiled, just a little quirk of his lips. “And I do my job very, very well.”

Tony didn’t doubt the man’s words – but that didn’t stop him from wondering what made him tick. It didn’t stop him from wondering where the hint of darkness came from and whether Gibbs also had the capacity to love. Was he married? Did he have a family?

Gibbs was smirking again. “Two more days, Tony. Two days and you are mine.” He turned to go. “Work hard because I expect you to be in top form.” Gibbs stepped from the cage and locked the door behind him. “I will push you beyond what you think you can handle. I will put you through hell and you will come out the other side – stronger and much better able to serve your master.”

And then Gibbs simply walked away, leaving Tony staring after his retreating figure. He was still sitting on the cot, watching the shadows at the far end of the rehab holding area, when he saw the door open. The person was pushing a cart so he assumed he was going to be fed – and if it was Fred who was delivering his breakfast, he could count on getting a smile and a fist bump before his tray was handed over. He smiled as he pushed to his feet.

The smile fell from Tony’s face as he realized the person pushing the cart wasn’t Fred. He quickly got into position, feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped at the small of his back, chin down, eyes on the floor. And he waited.

To Tony’s immense relief, the person pushing the cart didn’t say anything about his lapse in form. Tony knew he should keep his guard up and not get too familiar with the trainers and other employees of the training facility – but it was so easy to fall into old habits and Tony ached for human comfort. Hell, he ached for human interaction. A simple conversation would send him reeling as he had been treated as if he was less than nothing since he’d been taken from school.

Tony’s tray was pushed through a small slot in one wall of the cage. He hadn’t known it existed before since Fred always just opened the door, greeting him like he was a person, maybe even a friend. He missed that since this new guy didn’t even acknowledge Tony’s existence. The tray slid across the concrete floor with a hiss and then the small slot was covered again and the cover locked down tightly. Not that Tony could even fit through the small space, but it hurt to know he wasn’t trusted not to try.

Conveniently forgetting for a moment that he was in a training facility for new slaves, Tony let the hurt wash over him. He was a tactile person. He loved to chat. And he cultivated his friendships with care. When he’d been ripped away from it all, he had been hurt deeply. Being disregarded so easily brought that hurt back in full force.

Tony dropped to the floor, sitting tailor fashion in front of his tray. Might as well eat. He’d learned early on that skipping a meal didn’t hurt anyone besides himself.

~*~

Tony’s day didn’t get any better. When he had finished breakfast he was taken to physical therapy. He should have realized what was going on when someone new came for him. But it didn’t hit until he got to the therapy room and this new person handed his leash over to someone new – someone not Dave. In his head, he had known he wouldn’t see Dave again, but his heart still held out hope. Instead, he was put through his paces (and then some) by a new therapist, Randy.

By the time Tony’s morning session was finished he was done in. His lunch tray was already in the cage when Randy delivered him back there – and Tony was shocked when Randy told him he had a two hour break before his next session.

Tony opened his mouth to ask if Randy was serious and then shut it when Randy raised an eyebrow. All he needed was for Randy to have a reason to punish him. The second session promised to be more than enough punishment on its own.

As soon as Randy walked away, Tony sat and began to eat. The food was blander than he liked but at least he was fed. In the early days at the training facility he had snarked about the food one afternoon and he’d not been fed again for 36 hours. He hadn’t spoken out about the food again since having was better than not having – nearly tasteless or not. And then he’d been given to Claude and that was a whole new level of hell.

Tony was napping when he heard footsteps approaching and he jumped to his feet quickly, getting into position just as the steps grew louder. He hadn’t planned to fall asleep but the morning physical therapy had really taken it out of him. The physical therapy aide didn’t say anything about him napping so Tony hoped he hadn’t noticed that it took Tony an extra few seconds to get into position. It wasn’t forbidden for him to nap. In fact, napping had been encouraged since he’d been injured – but he still felt strange being caught out and not quite ready for his appointment.

As Tony walked back to the physical therapy gym at the end of his leash, he let himself be distracted by the thought of his new trainer – Gibbs. What would the man be like to work with? Would he be dour? Strict? Harsh? Demanding? All of the above?

Tony’s thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at the gym and by Randy’s physical therapy program for the afternoon session. Once Tony knew what was expected of him, he immediately got to work. He knew the machines and didn’t need instruction anymore. What he got instead was intense observation.

Running on the treadmill took his mind off things. Tony could almost run forever – well, at least he had been able to before. Now he was building up his stamina again and had just about reached the end of his rope when he heard a voice over his shoulder and his footsteps faltered.

As he stumbled to a halt Randy approached, berating Tony loudly for stopping.

“Mister Carter!”

Randy turned quickly as Gibbs approached the treadmill. Tony glanced at his new trainer and quickly looked away again after seeing a fierce scowl on Gibbs’ face. “I think the slave is finished for the day.”

Tony shivered at the growl in Gibbs’ voice.

“When he returns tomorrow there will be another therapist here. Do I make myself clear?”

Randy puffed up like a bird, thrusting his chest out. Tony fought not to laugh as Gibbs merely stared him down, clearly not impressed. “You have no authority here, Gibbs. You can’t pull me from this slave’s care, especially when he was just assigned to me. Dave couldn’t handle him. He was too friendly. I am not like Dave and this slave will flourish under my care.”

Gibbs smiled then and Randy gulped but stupidly stood his ground. “You clearly have no idea what I’m capable of,” Gibbs growled. “But you’ll learn soon enough.” He turned, pulling a leash from his pocket. “I’m taking my slave now.” He clipped the leash to Tony’s collar and tugged.

Tony stepped from the treadmill and stood quietly at Gibbs’ side, just slightly behind the trainer, taking up proper position almost without thinking. Except he did give thought to Gibbs getting him away from Randy since the physical therapist was exhibiting some of the same qualities as Claude had before he’d snapped and landed Tony in the infirmary. Tony had no desire to repeat that experience any time soon.

Gibbs started walking, the leash snapping taught before Tony realized he was moving. He scurried to catch up and put the proper amount of slack in the leash as he followed Gibbs in quick footsteps. At the end of the corridor they made a right hand turn, and Tony almost stumbled again because he was expecting a left – back to his cage. Instead, he hurried along behind Gibbs, who didn’t seem to be slacking off on the pace anytime soon regardless of Tony’s current fitness level. He soldiered on, wondering for a brief moment where they were going, but then getting caught up in the scenery of a new part of the center he hadn’t seen before.

If he’d learned anything in the months since he’d been brought to the training center it was to take in as many details as possible. Not only was he always thinking of a way out of his predicament (tattoo and tracker be damned), but he was also looking for chinks in the armor – of the facility and of his trainers. Anything to exploit. Any little thing.

Many twists and turns later, Tony was completely turned around. He was pretty positive they had to have traveled from the main building to another – maybe even _through_ a third – but he couldn’t be sure. One more corridor, around another corner, and they stopped in front of a blue door. Tony noted that the doors on this particular corridor all had different colored doors; something he hadn’t seen before.

Gibbs produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door before stepping inside and tugging Tony in behind him. “Welcome home.”

Tony looked up, startled. They were in an apartment – presumably Gibbs’ apartment. But what had he meant by his statement? Surely Tony wasn’t going to be living there – with Gibbs. It seemed entirely too normal and Tony was freaking out a little as he glanced around the large living room area. He could see a well equipped kitchen to one side and three doors at the far end of the room off a short hallway. Floor length drapes covered one wall and Tony wondered if Gibbs had actual windows or if the drapes were fake to create the illusion of windows like on a cruise ship.

Gibbs snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor. Tony hesitated and then was on his knees before the gesture could be repeated. He cursed himself silently for not anticipating Gibbs’ expectations and staring like a country bumpkin. Gibbs had taken him from his cage – the very same one he was sure he would be returned to once PT cleared him. He didn’t want to fuck this up now. If he was good enough, maybe Gibbs would keep him here. Hell, he’d give his right nut to be able to kneel on carpet for a while instead of the cement floors that seemed to be prevalent in the rest of the facility. Well, until he escaped, that is. Being in another building might mean lessened security. He could only hope.

“Stop scheming so hard. You’re giving me a headache.”

Tony gulped. Was the man psychic? Seriously. Tony hung his head, his mind awhirl. He needed to figure Gibbs out quickly or he risked being drawn in by him. If that happened, Tony knew he was lost. He couldn’t spend the rest of his days serving some overweight, boring, old man who had too much money and not enough sense. He wouldn’t be someone’s boy toy or lackey. Tony couldn’t come to grips with his situation. There simply had to be a way out.

Gibbs sighed loudly. “Fold.”

Tony stilled, glancing up while not lifting his head. Fold?

“All the way to the floor, boy. Did those other yahoos not teach ya anything?” Gibbs squatted down beside Tony, pressing on the back of his neck and bending Tony forward. “Stretch your arms out in front of you.”

Tony settled into the position; his ass on his heels, chest on his knees, head on the floor, and his arms stretched out over his head, palms on the floor. He flinched when he felt hands at the cuffs around his wrists and resisted the urge to move when he heard a soft click. Gibbs must have clipped his cuffs together. Tony closed his eyes as he felt a tug on his wrists.

“Relax. I’ve just chained your wrists to a tie point in front of ya.”

Relax. Tony rolled his eyes and stifled a sigh. He resisted the urge to move closer to the tie point; his shoulders already seeming to ache, although Tony knew he wasn’t in any distress yet. Sympathetic pains had plagued him since he’d gotten to the facility and he knew he needed to get over it. He wasn’t in pain – just anticipating it.

Tony heard Gibbs walk past him a few times. He tensed as the footsteps approached – every time – mentally sighing when Gibbs didn’t slow and the footsteps faded away. Once he even heard a door open and close. It was further away so he assumed Gibbs had gone into another room. Maybe a bathroom? Bedroom? Tony’s mind conjured up all sorts of scenarios and, by the time he heard Gibbs walk toward him again, he was exhausted from his mind running in circles.

“Sit up.”

Tony felt the chain at his wrists loosen and he pushed himself up into a relaxed kneel; ass on his heels. If Gibbs wanted a formal kneel he’d have to ask for it because his knees were starting to ache again.

Gibbs stared at him for a few long seconds. “They told me you were a spitfire -- unteachable. But you are not going to give me shit, understand?” He sighed. “Stand.”

A man of few words. Tony bit the inside of his cheek to stifle the smirk that threatened to blossom across his face. He stood easily, if a beat too late, hiding the wince as his knees straightened. He was stiff, but not in any real pain, yet.

“Hold out your hands.”

Tony lifted his hands and saw that his cuffs had been slipped together with a simple double clip like you’d find in any hardware store; like something you’d use on a dog’s leash. He took a slow breath and watched as Gibbs removed the clip.

Gibbs stared at him and, as much as Tony wanted to be able to stare insolently back at the man, he used his station as a slave to bow his head. Those eyes saw too much, and Tony didn’t want to give his rebellion away – yet. He would play the good little slave until he could reel Gibbs in and then he would slip the leash and leave this place; disappear into the masses. Just because it hadn’t been done before didn’t mean it couldn’t be. And, for all he knew, maybe someone had escaped before and the government was just hiding it.

“Follow me, and watch your form.”

Tony followed behind Gibbs, lagging back just enough to be noticeable; insolent but not so much that it appeared anything but coincidental. Let him put that in his pipe and smoke it. Gibbs was giving him the “grand tour” of the apartment and Tony paid attention, looking for a way out more than anything but needing to know the weaknesses first.

The room on the right side of the hallway was Gibbs’ room. They didn’t go inside and Gibbs didn’t open the door. He merely told Tony that this was his room and that it had a private en suite bath attached. The two rooms across the hall were Tony’s. What would have been a guest room in any other apartment was little more than a cell, containing a large cage that took up about half the space. The cage held a large sleeping mat, much like a dog bed. There were also cabinets and a closet in the room. The second door on the left side of the hallway was a bathroom that contained a sink, toilet, and shower stall. The stall had no door and Tony held no fantasies that he’d be allowed in the room alone. On the edge of the sink, there was a new toothbrush still in its packaging and one towel hung on a peg by the shower.

“These rooms are off limits unless you have permission to use them.”

Permission. Sure thing. No going to the bathroom without permission. Tony gritted his teeth to hold back the snort of derision. He turned as Gibbs passed him, heading back to the living area. Tony waited a beat before following and nearly ran into the man when he stopped suddenly in the middle of the room.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Tony pasted his most innocent look on his face – and waited.

Gibbs stared into his eyes for a moment before Tony lowered his gaze in a submissive gesture. Gibbs startled him a moment later by grasping him by the arm and dragging him across the room. Tony gasped in surprise, his feet stumbling as he struggled along behind Gibbs. When they reached the other side of the living room, Gibbs thrust Tony toward the corner.

“Hands behind your head.”

Tony jumped at the harsh tone. He opened his mouth to ask why but one look at Gibbs’ face made him shut his mouth and comply with the order.

“Huh – you _can_ learn, Spitfire.” Gibbs snorted. “Turn around.”

Tony didn’t want to turn his back on the angry man but he had no choice in the matter. It was turn or be turned. Once he was facing the wall, Tony heard a click and realized Gibbs had clipped his cuffs together again. He heard another and felt fingers at his neck. He tried to lift his hands and felt his collar tighten against his throat.

“Be still. You’re not going anywhere and you’ll only hurt yourself.” Gibbs leaned in close. “I don’t like my property damaged and will punish any willful disregard of my wishes. Remember that next time you decide to be insolent.”

“But –” A resounding slap to the back of his head made Tony nearly bite his tongue and he turned, indignant.

Gibbs grasped him by the back of the neck, right above his hands, preventing his turning around. Tony’s head was pressed into the corner, his forehead forced against the wall. “Don’t move.”

Tony stilled, breathing hard. He wasn’t done fighting yet – not by a long shot – but Gibbs was stronger than he was, and had the advantage of his hands. Tony was winded. “Let me go. You’re hurting me.”

Gibbs sighed. After a moment he reached around Tony’s face. “Open your mouth.”

There was no way Tony was going to open his mouth now that Gibbs had ordered it. He wasn’t stupid – just stubborn. He clenched his jaw.

“I said open.”

Something hard was pressed against Tony’s lips and Tony breathed hard through his nose.

Gibbs pressed his body along Tony’s back. “Very well.” He pinched Tony’s nose closed with the hand that had been holding the back of Tony’s neck.

Tony struggled, bucking back against Gibbs to no avail. The other man was older, bigger, and he obviously knew what he was doing. Tony parted his lips, trying to take a breath through his teeth, but Gibbs’ hand easily covered his mouth, even with the object pressed against his mouth. Tony could see black spots begin to dance before his eyes and he opened his mouth to take a breath.

Immediately, Gibbs pressed a hard, round object into Tony’s mouth as he let go of Tony’s nose. Tony drew a breath in through his nose as he tried to spit the object out of his mouth. But Gibbs drew a strap around his head, using both hands and putting pressure on the object. Tony couldn’t budge it. He struggled as Gibbs fastened the straps behind his head, pulling them tight. The straps dug into the sides of Tony’s wide-stretched mouth and he cursed loudly but unintelligibly.

“Stand still,” Gibbs growled, still pressed against Tony’s back.

Tony thrashed harder, desperate to get away and to get the offending object out of his mouth. Truth be told, he was freaking out a little bit as well. There was no way he could just stand still now. After a bit, Tony realized Gibbs was running his hands over Tony’s body as if trying to soothe a horse. He snorted and tossed his head back, trying to catch Gibbs’ chin. If nothing else, it would give him the satisfaction of getting the best of the man.

Gibbs simply slapped the back of Tony’s head again, startling him. He screamed out his frustration.

“Ya gonna quiet down?”

Tony struggled harder and then yelped when Gibbs turned him and hoisted him up off his feet and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. A stinging slap landed on his bare ass as Gibbs strode across the living room. Tony squirmed, trying desperately to get away from Gibbs, but the man’s steps never faltered even as he tightened his grasp on Tony’s bucking body.

A door opened and then Tony was unceremoniously dropped onto his feet, Gibbs’ hands tight around his arms. Tony looked around wildly and saw he was in _his_ room, the large cage dominating his sight. He yelled behind the gag and twisted in Gibbs’ grip – and Gibbs merely held onto him, staring into his eyes calmly. Tony kicked out and, before he knew what was happening Gibbs had him on the floor, a knee in the middle of his back. Tony’s arms were still restrained and now Gibbs fastened a chain between Tony’s ankle cuffs as well, leaving maybe two inches of slack.

Tony grunted as Gibbs shifted. When Gibbs unclipped his wrist cuffs, Tony tried to buck the other man off him again but Gibbs was good and Tony was soon trussed up tight again, his hands pulled to the small of his back and his cuffs clipped together again.

“Done fighting me?”

Tony snarled and screamed into his gag as he kicked his bound feet. _Fuck you!_

Gibbs sighed and shifted his weight again. And then Tony’s feet were pulled up and a short chain fastened between his bound ankles and wrists, hogtying him.

It was an effective immobilization technique. It was also uncomfortable as hell after only a few minutes in. But he’d been in this situation before and he knew he wasn’t getting out of it until his new trainer decided to let him out. Resting his forehead on the floor, Tony closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply.

Tony didn’t know how much time had passed. He could hear Gibbs walk into and out of the room but he refused to turn his head to watch. That would be too much like begging and he wasn’t going to go there. As much as he didn’t want to go back to his cell, he also couldn’t just give up and give in to Gibbs either. Just being with Gibbs for a short while told him that the man was dangerous and it wouldn’t take much for him to break Tony’s will – if Tony didn’t guard himself. He had to be very careful not to give in to the temptation to make things easier. He had to stay free in his head or he would lose far more than his physical freedom.

~*~

By the time Tony gave in and whimpered out his distress, he could barely feel his feet anymore – and his knees felt like they were on fire. Intellectually, he knew Gibbs wouldn’t deliberately injure him, but the hurt was real and fresh and he was terrified of not being at a 100% fitness level – and not being able to run when he needed to.

In seconds, Gibbs was unfastening the chain that kept his legs bent tightly. Tony groaned as his legs were straightened out and tears ran down the side of his face as Gibbs’ strong hands massaged his legs. When he was finished, Gibbs rolled Tony over and sat him up.

Gibbs didn’t offer up an apology and Tony realized as soon as the trainer opened his mouth that he didn’t expect him to. Trainers had one task; to ready the slave for sale. Profits were the top priority and perfectly trained slaves drew the largest payouts.

Instead of an apology, Gibbs told Tony what would be expected of him while he was living in Gibbs’ apartment. As he’d thought, perfection was the goal of Gibbs’ training regimen and Tony wouldn’t be given a pass for having been injured.

“You need to remember one thing and one thing only.” Gibbs stared at Tony for a few long minutes. “Your job is to obey. You don’t need to think things through first. You don’t need to worry about what’s going to happen next. Your job is to live in the now and simply obey.”

Tony swallowed around the gag in his mouth. He could feel drool running down his chin and it enraged him that Gibbs would humiliate him in this way. He knew he was blushing but he couldn’t help it. Not in his worst nightmares had he ever imagined himself enslaved. Sure, he’d had the whips and chains fantasies once in a while – but never had he thought it would be his reality. He didn’t know how to just give in and be a slave, and the fact that he hadn’t gotten it yet in the time he’d been at the facility terrified him. What would happen to him if he failed to escape this place and couldn’t follow the rules either? Were slaves put down or would he be sold into a worse fate? He’d heard of companies doing testing on slave subjects. Or maybe he’d be sold to work in the mines. Either option filled him with dread.

A warm hand on his shoulder startled him and Tony almost tipped over as he squirmed away from the touch. Gibbs tightened his grip on Tony’s shoulder instead of pulling back as Tony had hoped. “Breathe.”

Tony barely heard the order as his head swam and his vision darkened.

“Breathe. In and out – slowly.” Gibbs cupped Tony’s face gently. “Look at me. Slow your breathing down for me. Come on, Tony. Follow my voice.”

Tony swayed and his vision grayed and then the gag was ripped from his mouth and he could take huge gulping breaths. It only took a minute for his vision to clear and then he leaned forward over his bent knees and gave into his feelings.

Tears ran, unchecked, down Tony’s face, wetting his bare legs as he sobbed out his anger and his frustration. He startled when he felt Gibbs pick him up in his arms, but struggling was out of the question unless he wanted to land on his ass in the middle of the floor – or worse. It surprised Tony when Gibbs simply walked out into the living room and sat in an overstuffed chair, cradling him on his lap and wrapping his arms around Tony securely. Tony gave a thought to fighting his way out of those arms but he was simply too tired – and he hadn’t been touched in a gentle manner in far too long.

~*~

Tony didn’t remember falling asleep and when he woke some time later he briefly wondered if he’d drooled on Gibbs’ shirt. But he wasn’t sitting on Gibbs’ lap anymore. Instead, he was lying in the big cage in “his” bedroom and his wrists were clipped in front of him instead of at his back. He hadn’t thought he could possibly sleep deeply enough to not notice Gibbs lifting him, carrying him, and then rearranging his chains. How could he possibly have been so comfortable with his jailor?

Maybe it had been simple exhaustion – emotional and physical. It had been a trying day. Tony had always prided himself on being able to handle new things, but lately – this was too much all at once and too much crazy shit for him to be able to adapt.

Tony took advantage of being alone to simply lie on his back and stare up at the top of the cage. His stomach growled and he realized he had no idea what time it was. His body was telling him he had missed a meal but it wasn’t like he could just get up and go out into the kitchen and make a sandwich. He tried to forget the feeling of hunger that wouldn’t go away now that it had made itself known but he wasn’t having any luck.

A short time later the door to his room opened and Tony turned his head to see Gibbs walk into the room. Gibbs stopped just outside his cage and stared down at him. Tony didn’t know what Gibbs wanted or why he wasn’t saying anything so he pushed himself up into a seated position in the middle of his cushion. Gibbs’s stare started to make Tony uncomfortable and he looked down at his bare legs, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at Gibbs. He’d had enough trouble for one day.

Gibbs sighed and Tony closed his eyes briefly, swallowing the sour taste in his mouth. He’d disappointed the man yet again and he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong this time. So much for securing a place in Gibbs’ apartment until he could slip away unnoticed and lose himself in the city. There had to be an underground for escaped slaves. He’d just have to trust in his ability to find it.

Gibbs pulled up a chair that Tony hadn’t noticed before, placing it directly in front of the cage. He sat. “I realize we haven’t had the chance to fully discuss my rules and what I expect from you during our time together. When I come into the room to retrieve you, I expect to find you waiting on your knees for me.” He waved Tony to remain seated as he began to shift around to a kneeling position. “Listen first. We will get to positions in a few minutes.”

Tony blushed and hung his head. Yeah, that particular rule had been drilled into him and he’d kneeled for Gibbs earlier. But now his knees were aching and it simply hadn’t crossed his mind that Gibbs would expect him to kneel when he was obviously injured. Looks like he had underestimated his new trainer. He needed to make sure it didn’t happen again.

“Look at me.”

Tony took a breath and looked up. Being the object of that icy blue stare was disconcerting but Tony needed to pay attention so he braved the stare, trying not to appear too nervous.

Gibbs’ lips curled up in a small smile as if he sensed Tony’s attempt at deception – and found it amusing. “As I said before, I expect you to be on your knees every time I come to retrieve you from this room. Since it seems that you need a little refresher course, each day we will work on positions and obeying simple directions. You’ve already been through this part of your training so I’m not going to waste much time on it. I expect you to progress rapidly as your prior training kicks in again. I know it’s easy to fall out of the routine but you can’t afford to do so. A lapse like you just showed can get you punished. You have to be on your game at all times. As we progress here your tasks will become more complex and you will learn more advanced positions as well as how to endure heavy bondage without getting injured. Your endurance will be tested.”

Tony sighed softly before he could contain it and then bit his lip when Gibbs raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to apologize but Gibbs lifted a hand and Tony shut his mouth quickly.

“You will speak only when spoken to. At the end of every day you will be allowed to ask up to three questions – so make them count.”

Tony gaped. Three questions? He usually had three questions before breakfast! Not that he had been allowed to ask _any_ up until now but that was beside the point.

“Once I deem your training sufficiently advanced, you will be taught to please your owner – in any way he desires. When you have mastered those skills you may be loaned out to a female trainer so you can learn how to please a woman – in case you’re bought by one – if I deem it necessary at the time.”

Tony couldn’t believe his ears. He had to –what?! He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, coughing out a bark of disbelief. He couldn’t form any words but the sounds wouldn’t be contained.

“Fold!”

Tony blinked up at Gibbs stupidly, the order not even registering in his consciousness.

“Fold, Tony,” Gibbs repeated. “Now!”

Tony gasped in a breath and pulled his knees under him before folding forward, resting his forehead on the floor and extending his arms out in front of him.

“Breathe.”

Tony closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing – nothing else mattered but the sound of his breaths rushing in and out of his lungs.

“Slow it down. A count of four.”

And he did it, almost automatically. For some reason, he obeyed Gibbs instinctively. In his heart he wanted to believe that Gibbs would never hurt him – but he’d just spelled it out for Tony. They were going to have sex. Gibbs was going to fuck him whether or not he wanted it – because it was Tony’s place to serve his trainer as his trainer saw fit.

“I know you’re upset.”

Tony held back a snort of derision. It would only get him in even more trouble. See? He _could_ learn.

“You’ve been here a few months now and it’s time you learned the basics of pleasing your owner. That’s the one thing that can keep you from being sold over and over again. A happy master will hold onto a slave longer than one who feels cheated.” Gibbs leaned forward. “You’re pretty, Tony. Now you’re going to learn how to use that to keep you safe.”

Tony’s thoughts were awhirl. He’d been at the training center for months now? It didn’t seem possible that so much time had passed while he was holed up in this place. Nothing ever seemed to change in this place yet life went on in the outside world. His father was a free man and here he was, caged and getting informed that he was soon to be taught how to get fucked and pretend to love it – even if he hated the man doing the fucking. Safe? That was the big illusion. He would never be safe again.

~*~

The day wasn’t going well and Tony knew Gibbs must be at the end of his rope. Tony just hoped he wouldn’t swing from it later. Even though he knew Gibbs needed him healthy, his lack of ability to relax enough to follow Gibbs’ direction was infuriating him. And he knew if it was infuriating _him_ , then Gibbs must be near homicidal.

Tony flinched every time Gibbs moved. All he could think about was that Gibbs was going to fuck him. Sure, it hadn’t sounded like Gibbs was planning to strap him down and plow into him today – but everything was at Gibbs’ prerogative and Tony hated not knowing when it would happen. Every movement could be the one where Gibbs grabbed him and threw him across the nearest surface. Every action could end in Tony’s rape and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Tony almost snorted as he replayed the running monologue in his head. He knew the argument: it wouldn’t be rape because a slave didn’t have a choice and therefore “no” was taken off the table. Slavery implied consent – even if the slave was dying inside. It could be rape in his head but it wouldn’t matter. He had no rights.

Gibbs’ hands on him startled him and Tony fell back on his ass and scooted backwards a couple of feet. He couldn’t move far or fast; Gibbs had fashioned Tony’s leash to the arm of his chair before he had picked up the newspaper and begun to read it. That, and the shortened chains and modified hogtie that allowed him to kneel but not to stand kept him from moving quickly. As Tony reached the end of his leash and came up short, he whimpered in distress.

Tony watched fearfully as Gibbs reached out for the leash. He felt the tug as Gibbs wrapped the leash around his fist.

“Come to me, Spitfire.”

Gibbs didn’t sound angry but Tony knew he must be furious, and it terrified him. Would he spend the next few days hogtied in his cage or in one so small that he couldn’t even twitch without feeling the bars press into his flesh? Would a hood be added so he couldn’t use visual clues to gauge the time of day or what was going on around him? Would he be beaten? Raped? Tony was frozen in place, lying on his back with his bound arms trapped under him and his legs bent up tight to his ass. He hurt.

Tony’s vision began to gray out as he hyperventilated. And then Gibbs was hunkered down right in front of him, holding the leash tight against Tony’s collar. He didn’t holler, didn’t shake Tony around, didn’t hit him. Gibbs was speaking softly, coaxing Tony into deeper, slower breaths; telling Tony he wouldn’t hurt him.

“Come on, boy. Look at me.”

Tony glanced up and then away again, cringing as he expected a slap – for looking, for getting out of position, for flinching away from Gibbs’ touch – for being a bad slave again.

“That’s it.” Gibbs’ voice was almost hypnotic, and Tony sighed softly as he closed his eyes. “I’m going to roll you over now. Don’t panic. Just relax.”

Tony felt Gibbs’ hands on his body again. He tensed but allowed Gibbs to roll him on his stomach and he moaned at the relief of pressure on his arms and knees as Gibbs unclipped the chain fastening his wrist chains to the ones at his ankles.

“Good boy,” Gibbs said as he ran his hands firmly over Tony’s back and legs.

Tony could feel his muscles jump under Gibbs’ hands but the man didn’t falter so it must have been okay with him. Still, it made Tony feel like a failure and he hid his face against the carpet.

“I’m going to unclip your cuffs now.”

And Tony’s hands fell to his sides, sending a quick jolt of pain through his shoulders. He groaned softly and Gibbs moved his hands to Tony’s shoulders, rubbing that pins and needles feeling into them as his circulation was fully restored.

“Up on your knees.”

Gibbs’ strong hands pulled him into position as he said the words, and Tony bit back a yelp of surprise. _Pay attention, Tony. Don’t want to give Gibbs any more reason to punish you._

“Roll your shoulders. Stretch out.”

Tony stretched and then Gibbs clipped his cuffs in front of him. Tony watched and bit back a sigh of frustration, lifting his bound hands to look at them. He frowned when Gibbs wrapped a light chain around his waist, fastening it somehow at his back and then clipping his wrist cuffs to it.

“Not your choice,” Gibbs said as if answering Tony’s unspoken question of why Gibbs was chaining him in this manner. And then Tony yelped out loud as Gibbs swung him up into his arms and walked the couple of steps back to his chair. He cradled Tony on his lap.

“Gibbs, I’m too big!”

Tony’s eyes widened as Gibbs reached down beside his chair into the box Tony had mentally dubbed the punishment box for the items Gibbs kept there. Tony shook his head.

“Please,” he whispered, “I’ll be good.”

Gibbs held up a ball gag and Tony gulped. “Open.”

Tony knew better than to argue and he closed his eyes as Gibbs fastened the gag around his head. Tony’s tongue pressed against the offending piece of rubber and he whined softly before sighing and lowering his head.

Gibbs placed two fingers under Tony’s chin and lifted until Tony had to look at him. “It’s okay, Tony. The ball has holes in it. You won’t have any issues with not getting enough air. Understand?”

Tony nodded reluctantly. He knew he wasn’t in any danger of suffocating but it didn’t lessen his anxiety any.

“Relax.”

Tony rolled his eyes – and Gibbs slapped the back of his head slightly. Tony dropped his gaze, contrite for the moment. He didn’t resist as Gibbs maneuvered him so he was lying with his head pillowed on Gibbs’ shoulder, his legs across Gibbs’ lap, feet dangling just off the floor.

Gibbs began to pet him lightly and Tony closed his eyes, trying desperately not to flinch away from the touch.

“Relax.” The air from Gibbs’ whisper ghosted against Tony’s ear and he shivered.

Tony’s breath caught as Gibbs wrapped a hand around his throat. He knew Gibbs wouldn’t hurt him but it was difficult to reconcile his fear with that knowledge.

“Look at me.”

Tony lifted his gaze to Gibbs, staring into those baby blue eyes fearfully.

“I’m not going to harm you.”

And that was vastly different from “hurt you”. Tony felt his heart begin to race and he desperately wished to close his eyes and lick his lips but he wasn’t allowed to do the first and was unable to do the second.

“Shhh.”

Tony whimpered softly and Gibbs put a finger against the ball in his mouth. Tony nodded slightly. He got the implicit ‘be quiet” in the gesture. He was trying – really, he was. But it was hard to trust the man when he didn’t really know him. He hadn’t had the chance to learn just how Gibbs was going to train him and, other than being punished by him for what Tony thought of as a small infraction, he didn’t know anything about the man. Tony bit back a snort. There was one thing he knew: Gibbs wouldn’t hesitate to punish him when he screwed up. _So no more screwing up._

Gibbs continued to pet him, his hands running lightly over Tony’s skin. At first Tony’s skin crawled with the sensation, but after a while he became used to it. He might not have _liked_ it, but he could stand it at least.

He dozed, startled awake some time later when Gibbs shifted him. Tony was, of course, embarrassed when he realized he’d been napping; more so when he saw the spot of drool on Gibbs’ shirt. Gibbs just looked smug and Tony’s embarrassment turned to a smoldering anger. Gibbs caught him glaring and raised an eyebrow. Tony lowered his gaze, hoping he would avoid a punishment for staring.

~*~

Days passed, turning into a week and then two. Tony fell into the routine that Gibbs set for him. Interludes of boredom were punctuated by Tony sassing Gibbs or acting out or just plain messing up. Tony knew he’d be punished for those outbursts, but he couldn’t always seem to help himself. The constant rote training wore thin quickly. He knew the positions. He hated them, but he knew them. So why was Gibbs constantly drilling him on the various positions?

One day Tony realized that Gibbs was training him so that every position, hell every single thing that would be expected of him would be rote. If he had to think about things he would screw up. Too much thinking was dangerous. But knowing and doing were two vastly different things. It didn’t seep into Tony’s brain, however, until he started losing the privilege of asking three questions at the end of the day. Gibbs had finally hit on a punishment that hit too close to home for comfort.

Gibbs still liked to sit Tony on his lap and Tony still hated it. He hated being draped over Gibbs' lap like a little boy. But Gibbs wouldn’t always treat him like a little boy and Tony couldn’t decide if the anticipation was killing him or if he simply wanted to put an end to the waiting. He knew what was next in his training: pleasing his owner – in every way. Intellectually he could handle the thought because he was a slave and this was what was expected of a slave. But emotionally he was a mess. Every single time Gibbs sat him on his lap he was sure the man was going to do more than simply pet him.

He wasn’t prepared when it finally happened. One evening the petting turned into a light groping but Tony didn’t recognize it for what it was until Gibbs had unfastened the chain at Tony's ankles and had draped Tony's legs over his own so they were spread widely. He then admonished Tony not to try to bring his legs together and the thought of Gibbs being angry with him made Tony hesitate. The murmured "good boy" might have also had something to do with it, not that Tony was ready to admit such a scandalous thing. After all, he still had plans to escape -- from the training center, from slavery, and even from Gibbs. He was trying to finish formulating his plan but it was hard to think when Gibbs kept changing up his routine on a daily basis. Following every order without thinking was the only way to keep from screwing up and earning a punishment. But following orders blindly was costly and Tony had to admit he was having difficulty remembering _why_ it was so important to get away.

Especially when Gibbs' slightly calloused fingertips were drawing abstract patterns on his neck and chest.

Tony's head rested back on Gibbs' shoulder. His eyes were nearly closed and his lips were parted. Gibbs had removed the offending ball gag shortly after draping Tony across his lap, and a finger pressed against his lips was all the warning he needed to keep quiet. Slaves were, after all, supposed to remain silent unless asked a direct question or given permission to speak from their owners -- or trainer.

Gibbs was _playing_ with him, for lack of a better definition. One hand lazily drew pictures on Tony's chest while the other was wrapped lightly around his neck. Every time he swallowed he could feel the press of those fingers. For some reason this intimacy slammed home his slave status more so than even his collar did. It felt like Gibbs literally held his life in his hands and Tony couldn't help but fidget at the thought.

"Be still."

Tony bit back a sigh, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Gibbs' thumb running over his lips startled him and he tentatively poked his tongue out to taste before he knew he was doing it. He pulled back in surprise but Gibbs' thumb chased the warmth of his mouth and slipped inside. Tony didn't know what to do when Gibbs ran his thumb over Tony's tongue but, after a moment, his lips closed around the digit and he suckled it tentatively a couple of times before trying to pull away. But Gibbs held him securely and he kept his thumb pressed against his tongue, not allowing him to spit it out.

Gibbs' free hand dropped from Tony's neck to play with his nipple and Tony gasped softly.

"Suck."

Tony sucked on Gibbs thumb --gently. And then Gibbs' fingers pinched at the nipple he had been playing with, making Tony arch his back and moan. Gibbs turned his attention to the other nipple then and Tony mewled around the thumb in his mouth, tugging on his cuffs and making the chain at his waist jingle. Tony tried to close his legs, but Gibbs widened his own in warning and Tony knew it was useless; there was no getting away from or hiding the feelings Gibbs was eliciting in him.

Tony's cock was filling and the only thing he could think to do was cover it with his hands and hope Gibbs wouldn't notice. It was a little bit of a stretch and Tony had to tug against his cuffs. The chain at his waist was catching on his hips but his fingers reached enough to press against his groin, hiding the fact that Gibbs' ministrations were making him feel pretty darned good -- even if he didn't want to.

Gibbs unclipped his cuffs from the chain around his waist and lifted his bound hands, refastening the clip to a ring on his collar. And then his hand closed around Tony's half-erect penis and gave it a good stroke.

Tony gasped and lifted his knees, trying to shield himself from Gibbs’ touch.

Gibbs smacked him once on the hip and Tony settled again. "Please," he groaned softly. "Don't."

Gibbs' hand around Tony's cock never faltered even as his fingers on his other hand invaded Tony's mouth, pressing down hard on his tongue. Tony gagged once and squirmed on Gibbs' lap.

"Relax," Gibbs murmured against Tony's ear. "Relax and take it, Tony. It's what your trainer wants."

For a moment, Tony had been sure the word Gibbs was going to use was owner, not trainer, and he was surprised to be disappointed when it didn't come. Trainer. Temporary. Tony couldn't understand why that bothered him, except that it did.

“Stop thinking so hard.”

Tony sighed silently and suckled on Gibbs’ thumb as he stroked it over Tony’s tongue. His hips thrust minutely, in time with Gibbs’ hand on his hard cock. He didn’t want to come this way and he definitely didn’t want to come undone, spread out as he was on Gibbs’ lap. Tony whimpered softly as Gibbs’ hand slowed, leaving his orgasm just out of reach. Gibbs chuckled softly and Tony shivered as Gibbs’ began to stroke him again, bringing him to the brink of orgasm quickly. Again, Gibbs backed off, leaving Tony hanging, and Tony gasped as Gibbs squeezed his balls none too gently, rolling them in his hand before going back to work on Tony’s sensitive cock.

Tony arched his back and moaned around the thumb in his mouth. He hated this – and was beginning to crave Gibbs’ touch as well. It terrified him that he wanted Gibbs. It thrilled him that Gibbs had kept him instead of just passing him along when he had fucked up. It terrified him that it mattered to him. He was truly fucked if he couldn’t get over these feelings. Oh, he still wanted to run and he liked to tell himself that, given even half a chance, he would – but a part of him whispered doubting thoughts in his head. Would he really run? Could he?

~*~

More weeks passed and Tony lost track of time. His life was filled with commands: kneel, down, present, crawl, position, stand, quiet. Following Gibbs’ commands was second nature by then, and Tony could still plan and plot as he put his body through the motions. He walked to heel, keeping the leash just slack enough not to tug, but not too slack so as to get out of position. He attended the classes his trainer saw fit to send him to; never anything Tony expected, always keeping him guessing. He’d been deliberately difficult to train but Gibbs hadn’t given up on him. Tony had to hand it to the guy – he was persistent – and it became easier to follow those orders instead of earning enough punishments to lose the privilege of asking those damn three questions every night.

Tony spent his days and his nights in chains or with leather straps wrapped around his body. He’d been trussed up in intricately knotted ropes, in a leather sleep sack, and in a strait jacket. He’d been hooded and gagged. He’d worn a teeth guard to give Gibbs head – and a ring gag. He had abased himself at Gibbs’ feet and been used as a foot stool while Gibbs read the newspaper. He had fetched Gibbs a beer when instructed to do so and walked behind him outside the apartment, unleashed but not unchained, as Gibbs moved through his day.

But he’d never been taken outside, never felt the grass under his bare feet – until today.

Tony had known something was up when Gibbs had taken off his sport coat and left it draped over the back of a chair in the kitchen as he picked up Tony’s leash, snapped his fingers, and pointed to the floor at his feet. Tony immediately got to his hands and knees and crawled to Gibbs, kneeling just in front of his feet. He sat back on his heels and rested his chained hands palms up on his thighs as Gibbs stared down at him.

Tony wanted to fidget under that stare but he knew better. Instead, he focused his gaze on a spot between Gibbs feet and waited. He heard the zipper and took a breath, not wanting to give Gibbs head, but not being able to fight his desire to please his trainer either. He wanted to bark like the trained pet he was turning into just to prove his point but he opened his mouth instead as Gibbs took a small step forward and lay his cock on Tony’s lips. The very act made his stomach turn but he was also salivating as Gibbs’ cock passed his lips. He hated this. He hated himself. He hated his trainer. And he loved him in a way as well. Was he becoming too dependent on Gibbs? Abso-fucking-lutely! But what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

“No teeth.”

Tony fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew what was expected of him and he used all of his considerable skill to bring Gibbs off quickly. The leash beckoned to him and he didn’t want to waste any time since it was obvious Gibbs was taking him out of the apartment. They had been cooped up for a couple of days, and Tony wanted to stretch his legs other than on the treadmill.

Tony licked his lips when he was finished, wanting a drink of water but knowing that Gibbs wouldn’t offer. For some reason, Gibbs seemed to like Tony having his taste in his mouth. Tony supposed he could use that as one of his three questions – if he ever ran out of things to ask. More likely, he would run out of questions because of a punishment rather than a lack of curiosity.

At Gibbs’ command, Tony stood and turned around, presenting his back so Gibbs could chain him – or not, as it turned out. Instead of the usual chains, Gibbs fastened a long leather strap to the back of his collar. Tony shivered as it rubbed against the skin of his back – and then Gibbs fastened his hands to the strip of leather with the built in cuffs. His arms were folded behind him and every movement pulled on his collar. He couldn’t fight this without choking himself; not that he would fight it. There were other ways to get free and someday soon Gibbs would take him out of this place, and then he would run and never look back.

When Gibbs pulled chains out of the closet, Tony bit back a sigh. It looked like he would be chained after all. Gibbs stroked Tony to fullness before snapping a combination cock ring and ball stretcher on him. Tony concentrated on breathing evenly and deeply, determined not to show how much this was affecting him. He could only hope they weren’t going anywhere. Gibbs had been threatening him with parading him around fully erect, telling him that his owner could do whatever he wanted to and with him. He also explained that some owners like to show off their slaves and would keep him naked and chained even when in public settings. It was then that Tony had realized there were still things that could freak him out. It took two hours in a strait jacket and hood before he was calm enough to discuss his freak-out with Gibbs. It wasn’t a day he cared to dwell on but now it looked like Gibbs was going to test him, and Tony was determined not to let anyone know just how much it bothered him.

Tony winced as the harness was strapped to his genitals and then frowned when Gibbs picked up the chains. He couldn’t actually watch what Gibbs was doing since his bound hands pulled just enough on his collar that he would have to actually choke himself to bend his neck far enough to look down at Gibbs. Instead, he endured the hands on his skin and he flinched at the sound of clips being placed. When Gibbs was finished, a chain ran from one ankle cuff, up and through a ring set on the underside of the ball stretcher, and down to the other ankle cuff. The chain tugged on his genitals and he squirmed a little reflexively.

The chain was snug but his legs were slightly spread so Tony knew the chain would loosen some when he moved his feet closer together. And then Gibbs told him to do just that and he nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, the weight was still there, but the tugging wasn’t. Gibbs adjusted something and then got to his feet, smiling a little as he clipped Tony’s leash to his collar.

“Got something special planned for today, my little spitfire.”

Tony blinked in surprise. _Special?_ Really. Tony bit his lip as he tried to stifle the urge to ask what was going on – where they were going – what they were going to do.

“You’re so easy to read,” Gibbs murmured and Tony blushed. “Come.” Gibbs beckoned Tony closer and Tony hissed out a breath as he took a first step and the chain pulled on his bound balls. Gibbs chuckled. “I’ve not hobbled your ankles. Instead, I have hobbled you only through your pain. You may take steps as big as you like. You may try to run.” Gibbs grabbed the ring on the front of Tony’s collar and leaned close. “But know this: you will pull your balls off if you try.” He took a breath. “And then you will have to endure my punishment.”

Tony swallowed heavily and nodded. The message had been received loud and clear. He rather liked his balls right where they were, thank you very much. He wouldn’t be trying anything stupid.

Gibbs tugged on the leash again. “This is to remind you – because I know that sometimes you forget your place.”

Tony frowned. He hadn’t tried anything really stupid in weeks – maybe more than a month even. So why would Gibbs bring it up now?

“Shall we go then?”

Tony smiled and took a step forward – and almost fell over as the chain pulled harshly on his balls. “Holy fuck! I thought owners liked their slaves in one piece and here you are trying to geld me.” He realized too late that Gibbs had been waiting for just such an outburst and he gulped as Gibbs wrapped the leash around his fist and reeled him in.

“Your choice, boy. We can stay here all day and you know you won’t be comfortable, or we can still go on our outing.”

Tony’s eyes opened wide. At the very least he was expecting to be punished – but they could still go out? Why would he choose to stay in when given the choice? As he opened his mouth to answer Gibbs held up a hand.

“Don’t be hasty.” Tony watched as Gibbs picked up an item that had been on the table by the door. “If we go out, you get muzzled.”

Gibbs knew Tony hated the muzzle, and Tony had a sinking feeling that Gibbs had set him up for just this scenario: having to choose between staying in and being punished or the one thing he wanted most of all – going out – paired with the one thing he hated most of all – the muzzle.

“Be very careful how you answer me or I will make the decision for you.”

Tony licked his lips. His innate ability to piss Gibbs off needed to be tempered. Taking a deep breath, Tony answered, “I’d like to go out – sir.”

Gibbs nodded and fastened the muzzle around Tony’s face with quiet efficiency. Tony blinked back tears of frustration and barely managed not to pull his head away when Gibbs cupped his face and ran his thumbs lightly over Tony’s eyes. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “You’ll see.”

Tony closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them Gibbs was staring. Tony lowered his gaze and Gibbs sighed softly.

“Let’s go.”

It took Tony more than a few steps to get the hang of walking in the hobbles without tugging too hard on his balls. Tony had to give Gibbs credit for the damn chains. They were quickly becoming his most hated item – even beating out the muzzle. Tony was so wrapped up in keeping his steps evenly spaced that he wasn’t watching where they were going and so, stepping into warmth and a spongy surface gave him pause. He stumbled a little before he realized they were outside – and his feet were stepping on actual green grass.

Gibbs seemed to understand what was happening and he stopped walking long enough for Tony to gather his wits around him again before heading out across the expanse of lawn. As Tony looked around he noticed they were in an enclosed courtyard of some sort. He could see another slave and trainer on the other side of the space, but no one else. They were nearly alone and it was quiet – too quiet for them to actually be outside. And then Tony looked up and saw that they were in a courtyard that wasn’t merely enclosed, it was domed. He could see the sky through the glass ceiling and even though the air was warm on his skin, he got the impression that it was late fall or even winter. He shivered in spite of the warmth.

As he walked over the grass, careful of his steps while still maintaining a proper pace to keep up with Gibbs, Tony realized he wouldn’t be able to pose his questions since he was wearing the hated muzzle. But he’d chosen his punishment. He just wondered if Gibbs had somehow planned it so he wouldn’t have to discuss anything with Tony.

Tony was determined not to forget about asking his question when they got back – and when Gibbs granted him speaking privileges. The three question rule came in handy – as long as Tony could remember what he wanted to ask. He didn’t like to squander the questions and sometimes one or more was taken away as part of his punishment so he had to be careful to choose wisely. Usually, in the evening, Tony would kneel at Gibbs’ feet and then settle back into a formal kneeling posture, and Gibbs would grant him his questions as long as he had behaved himself during the day. If not, Tony could get very uncomfortable as he waited, holding position until his muscles began to tremble from fatigue. And then Gibbs would stand him in the corner or put him into punishment position or into his cage instead. Gibbs always gave him an answer, even if it wasn’t the one he wanted.

Gibbs settled on a bench in the central garden of the courtyard and Tony knelt at his feet, settling back with his bottom on his feet. He was content to let the sunshine warm him as he looked around at the multitude of colors in the garden. After a while Tony closed his eyes and just concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply, breathing in the scents of nature, determined to make the most of this time.

Footsteps approached and Tony realized he’d been dozing a little. Not wanting to be disturbed, and trusting Gibbs to nudge him if his attention was necessary, Tony kept his eyes closed.

“Gibbs.” The voice was deep and melodious, and Tony thought he would categorize it as silky smooth. The bench creaked, and Tony assumed the man had joined Gibbs.

“Marcus. What brings you out here today?”

“Can’t I just want to take a stroll?”

Gibbs chuckled and Tony felt a shiver run up his spine at the sound. He loved that soft little growly laugh. “Not usually.”

Now the man called Marcus laughed, a deep booming sound. Tony wanted to open his eyes but was loathe to break the spell caused by the sun shining on his bare skin and the darkness behind his eyelids.

“You know me too well, my friend.”

There was silence and Tony could imagine Gibbs’ expression: a lifted brow, a quirk of his lips as he waited for his original question to be answered.

Marcus sighed and Tony mentally smirked. Of course Gibbs had won that round. He almost always did.

“Very well. I wanted to talk with you about your resignation.”

Tony felt his heart stop and his eyes opened of their own accord. Gibbs was frowning at the mountain of a man sitting beside him on the bench. He looked angry; stiff with it, in fact. “I’m not discussing this here.”

The man looked a little surprised at Gibbs’ anger and he stared for a moment before shrugging easily and standing. “Just thought I’d congratulate you – and offer to take over your training schedule.” He turned hungry dark eyes toward Tony. Catching him staring, he smiled. “Doesn’t look like you’ve gotten too far with his training if you have to hobble _and_ muzzle him after all this time.”

Gibbs reached out and patted Tony’s head before pulling him closer and pressing Tony’s head down on his thigh. Tony was confused by the move but went with it grudgingly before almost melting against his trainer with a soft sigh. “He’s very well trained. Just needs reminding once in a while.”

“I could break him of that quickly enough.”

Gibbs snorted and pressed his hand against Tony’s head as he started to sit up again. “And that’s where we differ. I don’t want an automaton. I want a willing slave with a mind of his own; someone who follows my orders because they want to, not because they have no thought processes left. I want a companion. I want someone I can talk to.”

It was Marcus’ turn to scoff. “A slave is a hole, Gibbs. The men who will bid on this one will want him because he’s pretty – not because he’s a good conversationalist. Hell, they may even have his vocal cords removed – unless they get off on hearing him scream.”

Tony blanched and swallowed against the bile in his throat. He whimpered and Gibbs hushed him with quiet sounds while holding him.

“I think you’re too attached to this one, Gibbs.”

“And I think you’re out of line.” Gibbs stood and tugged Tony to his feet, helping him to balance until he got his feet under him again.

“I’ll see you at the auction,” Marcus said as Gibbs turned away. “He’s due to be sold, isn’t he? It will be interesting to see who bids on him. He’s quite the specimen.”

Gibbs didn’t answer and Tony stumbled along behind him as Gibbs stalked away over the grass. Tony was having a difficult time of it; trying to keep his steps small enough not to pull too hard on his balls and trying to move fast enough to keep up with Gibbs’ long strides. He wasn’t taking it easy on Tony like he had on the way out to the garden, and Tony felt each and every step.

As they stepped back into the building, Gibbs stopped. The suddenness of the stop caught Tony by surprise and he almost ran into Gibbs before checking his momentum and halting. Tony could see Gibbs’ shoulders move as he took a few deep breaths and Tony waited, understanding that the conversation with the other trainer had angered Gibbs – he just hadn’t realized how much. But Tony was also upset and he wanted nothing more than to get back to Gibbs’ apartment and crawl into his cage so he could process this news. Being sold. The words alone terrified him. He wasn’t ready!

Gibbs had resigned his position and Tony was afraid of getting yet another trainer. He’d been through too many already and Gibbs, while a strict task master, was the best of the lot. A new trainer would be a complete unknown – again. Tony could feel himself begin to panic and he closed his eyes briefly, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. It didn’t take away all of the panic he could feel coursing through him, but it helped. Maybe he would actually make it back to the apartment before he fell to pieces.

The other thought he couldn’t shake was of the auction. The other trainer had said he was about to be sold – but when, exactly? Gibbs hadn’t mentioned it at all and Tony had assumed it was months away yet. Most slaves were sold shortly after their sixteenth birthday, but since Tony had gotten a late start as a slave they were giving him training time before putting him up for auction. But, he knew they wanted to sell him while he was still seventeen since his value would drop dramatically once he turned eighteen. If he was sold after eighteen, it was likely he’d only be picked up by a corporation for manual labor as he’d be considered “too old” for other uses.

Tony almost didn’t react when Gibbs started walking again, tugging against the pull of the leash before taking a quick stumbling step and falling into place behind Gibbs. At least the man had slowed down somewhat and his gait wasn’t threatening to pull Tony’s balls off anymore. Tony snorted softly at the thought and Gibbs tugged gently on the leash. Tony rolled his eyes: leave it to Gibbs to hear that small sound. He couldn’t get away with anything.

Gibbs unclipped the leash from Tony’s collar as soon as he closed the door behind them and then gave the signal for Tony to kneel. Tony glared but immediately knelt, landing softly on his knees, his hands still cuffed behind his back. He watched as Gibbs walked away from him, seemingly forgetting him. It was a relief to be forgotten for a moment as Tony had a lot on his mind and was too preoccupied to pay attention to his trainer. He knew he needed to get his mind back in the game but wanted a few minutes to ponder the new information. Being able to assimilate the information would help him begin to deal with it. The unknown frightened him but there was little he could do to change things so he had to plan for a change in circumstance – and figure out how to disappear when even the slightest opportunity presented itself.

Tony had been elated to be outside, and disappointed that they had been in a closed courtyard. There was no opportunity to slip away from such a location, not that he had expected Gibbs to be careless enough to present such an opportunity. But he could plan for the future. Gibbs would be gone but he would get another chance to get away. He just needed to be ready. Maybe his next trainer would be lax or lazy – even stupid would be a nice change. One small opening was all he would need and he would disappear forever. Getting away before the auction would be best but he couldn’t count on it. After the auction would present a whole new set of challenges but he wasn’t giving up.

A soft tap on the back of Tony’s head startled him. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Tony huffed out a breath through his nose and pulled away from Gibbs’ hand. All he had were his thoughts and they couldn’t take those away from him. Well, they could try but they would have to break him to do it. That thought brought Marcus’ words back to him and he was barely able to suppress the shiver that wanted to crawl up his spine. Marcus had said he could break him and Gibbs was leaving and Tony really didn’t want to test Marcus’ training abilities. How the hell was he going to get out of this? He needed to leave this place, and sooner rather than later.

Gibbs unfastened the strap running down Tony’s back and released Tony’s wrist restraints with an admonition to “stretch out – all the way down”. Tony immediately folded forward, stretching his arms out in front of him. He groaned as he stretched cramped muscles.

“Good boy. Now stay there.” Gibbs pressed Tony’s knees apart with the toe of his shoe and then pushed his head forward until his forehead was touching the floor. “You can lift your ass a little if you need to, but your arms stay where they are and your forehead stays on the floor. Understand?”

Tony grunted his assent, nodding what little he could manage. Tony could hear Gibbs walk around him and he longed to see what was happening but he knew Gibbs would leave him in this position until he thought Tony had learned that it wasn’t what _he_ wanted, but what Gibbs wanted, that counted.

He didn’t know how long he stayed in that position, but he was almost dozing by the time Gibbs nudged him with his shoe. “Sit up, Tony.”

Tony pushed back, shaking his head slightly to dispel the cobwebs as he sat back on his heels. He immediately folded his hands at the small of his back before lifting his chin and looking up at his trainer.

“You hungry?”

Tony huffed out a breath. Really? They weren’t going to talk about what Marcus had said? He was sick of being treated like—like – like he didn’t matter. He knew he was technically a slave but Gibbs didn’t even care enough about him to discuss his resignation with him? Well, fuck that. Tony stubbornly shook his head.

Gibbs merely raised an eyebrow and then turned and walked toward the hallway. “Follow me,” he said over his shoulder. As Tony rocked forward to get to his feet, Gibbs added, “On your hands and knees.”

Tony hesitated, shocked and angered at the order, before getting to his hands and knees and crawling behind his trainer, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. Gibbs didn’t make him crawl often and it always bothered Tony to be on his hands and knees. He could kneel with the best of them, but not being allowed to walk upright pushed his buttons and he became surly as a result. Gibbs knew this and didn’t often push him in this manner. But he supposed he had earned it with his attitude and refusal of dinner.

Gibbs made a beeline for the hallway and Tony followed as slowly as he dared. The hobbling chain was still attached to his ball stretcher and he had no desire to rip his balls off. Besides, he wasn’t too eager to play nice right now. Tony had been hoping Gibbs would remove the hobble chain but the way things looked now, he would probably wear it until his nuts fell off. Tony bit back a sigh. He’d practically begged to be caged but now he just wanted to talk about what had happened in the courtyard, and he knew Gibbs wouldn’t discuss it with him. After all, he was just a slave.

“Bathroom,” Gibbs said without stopping. “Use the head. It’s the last chance you’ll get for a while. And then meet me back in the living room.”

 

~*~

Gibbs had his back to him when Tony walked into the room.

“Who told you to stand?”

Tony rolled his eyes as he dropped to his knees. No matter how long he spent with the man, he would never be able to figure out how he knew the things he knew even when his back was turned. It was infuriating. A sharp snap focused Tony’s attention and he crawled to kneel at Gibbs’ side.

Gibbs was standing in front of one of the smallest cages in the vast arsenal of cages he had at his disposal, and the one cage that Tony hated most of all. Tony had known he wasn’t going to get away with being rude and uncooperative but he hadn’t thought Gibbs was pissed enough to use this particular cage. Apparently he was wrong.

“Stand.”

Tony stood easily, widening his stance slightly and folding his hands at the small of his back. He kept his head up and his eyes lowered. There was no way he wanted to piss Gibbs off more than he already had. A paddling before he was stuffed in that cage would make for a very uncomfortable afternoon. A soft snort told Tony that Gibbs had seen his effort to be perfect. It also told him it was too little too late but you couldn’t fault a guy for trying, especially not when faced with hours of cramped muscles.

Tony couldn’t hold back a groan of relief when Gibbs took the cock ring and ball stretcher off him. He could feel himself deflate reflexively and sighed behind the muzzle. God, that felt wonderful, and his eyes closed of their own accord as the pent up tension melted away. An ice cold hand wrapped around his length and he yelped, even as Gibbs tightened his grip. Any residual erection melted quickly, and he shivered as Gibbs removed his hand. It was probably just as well that he was muzzled because he definitely would have sworn at the icy grip – and earned an even harsher punishment than he was currently facing.

Gibbs efficiently caged Tony’s dick, clicking the padlock closed expertly before looking into Tony’s eyes. Tony flinched at the simmering anger even though he knew it wasn’t all directed at him, and he looked away quickly. Gibbs might be angry, but Tony was angry as well. It had been quite a shock to be told by a complete stranger that his trainer was retiring. Gibbs probably hadn’t even planned to tell him.

“Hands.”

Tony blinked in surprise as he held his hands in front of him. He was being mitted. It wasn’t like Gibbs hadn’t used the mitts before – quite often, in fact. But Tony had learned his lesson and didn’t try to jerk off at night any more – especially since he knew the cameras were watching his every move. _A slave’s body belongs to his master._ Tony could recite the arguments by rote. And he had learned his lesson. So why now? Especially since his dick was already caged.

As Tony watched Gibbs put his hands into the mitts and padlock them in place, Tony snorted softly. He probably would have jerked off given half a chance today. He was just that pissed off at Gibbs and he would have wanted to thumb his nose at him in any way possible. Gibbs knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. When he looked up from the leather mitts, Gibbs smirked. He knew. Of course he knew. Tony rolled his eyes and Gibbs smacked the back of his head.

“Stop it. You’re in enough trouble,” Gibbs said evenly as he clipped a thin chain to the base of the cock cage Tony wore.

Tony sighed through his nose and nodded before looking down at the tiny cage again. He shuddered at the thought of being confined in such a small space but dropped to his knees immediately at Gibbs’ signal. He hummed almost silently in appreciation as Gibbs removed the hated muzzle.

“Work your jaw.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth, working his jaw up and down as well as side to side. He rolled his neck and then settled on his heels, his mitted hands on his thighs.

“Do you need a drink?”

Tony hesitated for a moment as he thought about it and then shook his head in the negative.

“Very well.” Gibbs walked away for a moment and Tony watched closely. There had to be something else in store. Gibbs’ anger was still too fresh and it permeated the room. When he turned back Gibbs held something that made Tony’s blood run cold.

He watched as Gibbs walked back toward him and wondered if there was any way to get out of this. Gibbs knew it was something that frightened him and, while he’d used it before, he’d always set limits ahead of time in deference to Tony’s fear. This time Tony knew he wouldn’t get any such consideration. Gibbs meant to show him he was a slave and he had no say – and Tony thought this might be to show him that his life was about to change without Gibbs in it.

Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing his heart to stop racing. Gibbs’ hand cupping his chin made him startle, and Gibbs merely tightened his grasp slightly, waiting for Tony to still again. When Tony had settled, Gibbs stepped between Tony’s feet, the fabric of his trousers brushing against his ass. Not being able to see Gibbs was disconcerting but Gibbs had explained to Tony the first time he had put the hood on him that it was easier to get it seated properly if he was standing behind Tony.

“Open.”

Tony opened his mouth obediently, taking the mouth guard in and settling it over his teeth. Gibbs had explained that the mouthpiece was shaped like a guard so he couldn’t grind his teeth while wearing the hood. The guard also held his jaw open a bit – just enough for a largish straw to pass through. The straw was so he could breathe through his mouth as he’d quickly learned his nose would get stuffy rather quickly, mostly due to panicking.

“Remember to breathe slowly and deeply. Keep calm.”

Tony tried not to pull away as Gibbs seated the hood against his neck and over his chin. As it was, he flinched and his head pressed back against Gibbs’ trousers.

“It’s okay, Tony. Nice even breaths.” The straw was threaded through an opening in the hood and Gibbs’ hands made short work of tugging the hood in place, covering Tony’s eyes and ears and making everything dark and muffled.

Almost without thought, Tony lifted his hands to pull the hood away. True, his hands were mitted but the instinct to escape was still strong.

“Hands.”

Tony’s hands stilled and then he folded his arms at the small of his back with a sigh.

“Good boy.” Gibbs pulled and tugged, and Tony felt the hood mold to the shape of his face as Gibbs began to lace up the back.

Every adjustment pulled the hood tighter and Tony thought he’d go crazy from it all. And then the tugging stopped and time seemed to still. As much as Tony hated the tugging and tightening, he hated the stillness even more as the very air seemed to press against him. He couldn’t tell where Gibbs was or what he would do next, and Tony had never been good at just letting things come to him. He needed to see what was coming, to anticipate every movement – and with the hood he had to give up all control. He whimpered softly.

A strong hand patted him on the head and Tony leaned forward, coming up onto his hands and knees as Gibbs’ hand on his head guided him forward a few steps. A touch on his right hip guided him and he turned. He could see the cage in his mind and knew Gibbs was lining him up with it. Another tap, this time on his shoulder, and Tony began to back up into the small space. He actually had to bend down even further than his hands and knees, crouching as the metal of the cage came in contact with his back. He was crouched with his ass almost on his heels and down onto his forearms as he crawled backwards. His feet hit the bars at the back of the cage and he stilled while Gibbs moved his feet apart slightly and then tapped him on the ass. His feet slipped through the holes in the back of the cage and he inched back once more.

Tony felt Gibbs’ hands encircle his ankles and he stilled while Gibbs fastened his ankle cuffs to the bars of the cage. A tap on his right shoulder was next and Tony maneuvered his arm back along his side. There wasn’t much room between his body and the bars of the cage so it was a bit tricky to do but he managed, and then Gibbs fastened his cuff to the top of the cage, pulling his arm up and back slightly. The left arm followed and he shifted on his knees, trying to relieve some of the tension in his legs and shoulders.

Tony felt Gibbs’ hands on his body, running lightly over his arms and legs, spreading his knees slightly to take some of the weight off them, and then squeezing his hands. A slight tug on his caged cock surprised him and he tried to lift his ass the couple of inches wiggle room he had between his back and the top of the cage. Tony found that he couldn’t move even an inch, not without tugging sharply on his bound dick. It was then he realized what the thin chain had been for: Gibbs had obviously chained his cock to the floor of the cage.

A tap on his chin made Tony lift up slightly and Gibbs pushed the cage door closed and Tony’s chin came to rest on the edge of the half door. His collar was locked into place and then the top half of the door was fitted over his neck, leaving just his head outside the cage – and the soles of his feet.

He knew Gibbs would keep him safe even through the punishment but Tony couldn’t help but freak a little anyway. Being hooded and caged like this put Tony at his most vulnerable. Knowing he would be visible to any visitors that happened by – not that Gibbs had many visitors or cultivated many friendships – sent a shiver of fear up Tony’s spine.

Tony also remembered that Gibbs had promised to advance his training by fucking him. Was he going to do it through the bars of the cage while he was trapped and helpless? Tony began to panic. There was no way to stop it from happening but Tony had hoped that he would at least be able to see it coming. He shuddered hard, rattling the cage, and then he felt Gibbs’ hand rubbing over his skin lightly. That touch told him that he had to trust his trainer to know what was best for him in this moment. All else had been taken from him.

Eventually Tony allowed himself to sink into that fuzzy place where being trussed up and uncomfortable didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was safe and was guarded.

~*~

Tony graduated to a slightly bigger cage to sleep in and when he woke he was free of his chains and hood but not his cock cage or mitts. He sighed when he looked at the bars of the cage and saw the bottle attached to the bars, the long nipple stuck through the bars and into the cage. He knew it would contain a kind of pap – a nutritious concoction that Tony loathed and Gibbs said was good for him. It would also probably be all he would get for at least a day. After all, Gibbs knew he hated it and he was being punished, so it only made sense.

Tony languished in the cage. It wasn’t big enough for him to stretch out in or to even get to his feet so he had to be creative to keep from cramping up. He finished the bottle of pap and, just as he’d feared, he needed to use the facilities. Waiting for Gibbs to come for him would be difficult and he tried to keep his mind off his body’s needs. He knew Gibbs was watching the camera feed. He also knew Gibbs would be calculating the time since he’d finished drinking his meal – and he knew that Gibbs would already know Tony would need to use the bathroom. Waiting was part of being a slave and Gibbs was nothing if not thorough in his training.

By the time Tony heard the door to the bedroom open, he was breathing shallowly and clenching his muscles so hard he wasn’t sure he could even move, let alone make it to the bathroom without making an embarrassing mess. Claude had like to humiliate him like that. It was the one thing Tony didn’t think he could handle right now. But Gibbs didn’t open the cage at all. He merely pushed a smallish bucket into the cage and pointed.

“Use it.”

Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again. Protesting wouldn’t get him any closer to an actual bathroom. He eyed the bucket warily. How was he going to use the bucket without pissing all over himself and the cage floor? His hands were useless in the mitts.

Gibbs sighed softly. “On your knees. Hang your dick over the edge and lean forward. You can get the hang of it pretty quickly.”

Tony did as Gibbs bade, the cage clanging softly against the bucket, and, other than needing a quick adjustment after he started, he didn’t make a mess. When he was finished urinating, he backed away from the bucket, sitting back on his heels and looking up at Gibbs.

“You have a question?”

Tony shook his head and then nodded.

Gibbs chuckled. “Well, which is it, boy?”

Tony blushed furiously. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to have to beg to use the toilet.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Tony worried his lower lip between his teeth. “I need to use the toilet, sir.” His voice was whisper soft and hoarse and he couldn’t look at Gibbs when he said it.

But Gibbs merely pulled the bucket from the cage and stepped back. “Get on out here, then.”

Tony was so surprised by the order that he didn’t move.

“Well?”

It was the growl that did it and Tony quickly crawled from the cage. As he rocked forward to get up onto his feet, Gibbs snapped at him to stay on the floor.

“You have not earned the right to stand today. Carry the bucket and follow me.”

Gibbs turned to walk out of the room and Tony was faced with the small bucket of piss and the inability to use his hands due to having to crawl, as well as the fact that they were still mitted. What was he supposed to do? And then it hit him. He grit his teeth together and then gingerly picked up the bucket by holding the handle in his mouth. The bucket swung gently as he followed Gibbs out of the room and into the bathroom where he set the bucket down on the floor. Tony sat back on his heels, working his jaw back and forth. The bucket had been heavier than it had seemed at first, and his jaw was aching.

Gibbs didn’t say anything to him but he did snap his fingers and point. Tony got to his feet, gingerly dumped the bucket into the toilet and sat. To hell with modesty. That had been beaten out of him in the first couple of weeks. Yeah, he’d been stubborn, but bodily functions didn’t go away just because you didn’t want to piss in front of someone else – or with someone else’s hand wrapped around your dick. The pain of not complying wasn’t worth it.

Tony was surprised when Gibbs turned to the shower and rinsed the bucket, not paying Tony any attention. He was able to finish his business in relative privacy even with someone in the same room. However, he was stuck waiting for Gibbs to wipe his ass when he was finished since his hands were still mitted. Standing and bending over, mitted hands on his knees, Tony waited. When Gibbs was finished he gave the signal for Tony to kneel again. Tony knelt and waited while Gibbs flushed and then rummaged around in the bathroom closet. He frowned when Gibbs gave him the signal to go to punishment position but raised his ass and put his forehead on the floor without question. Tony stilled when he heard water running and then Gibbs was back and Tony felt a light hand on his lower back. He listened as Gibbs explained what he was going to do and felt the first frisson of fear settle in his gut.

Gibbs instructed him to breathe evenly and to not tense up but Tony couldn’t help it as Gibbs inserted the lubed nozzle into his ass and started the enema. Tony flinched when Gibbs started to rub light circles on his back and then sighed when Gibbs reminded him to relax and to listen to his voice. It seemed to take forever for the solution to finish and Tony felt very full when Gibbs told him to kneel up again.

“Hold that, Tony.”

Tony watched as Gibbs turned away and refilled the red bag. He was going to do it again? Well, fuck. Tony groaned as the first cramps hit and Gibbs talked to him, helping him to breathe through it. And then he was sitting on the toilet again, releasing the fluid.

“One more.”

Tony knelt on the floor again, sinking into punishment position. He could feel his muscles shake and Gibbs murmured encouraging words to him as he rubbed circles on Tony’s back again. This time he seemed to take the fluid easier and then Gibbs surprised him by inserting a small plug into his ass before helping him to kneel up again.

Gibbs then held out his hand. “Stand up for me, Tony.”

Tony took Gibbs’ hand and let Gibbs pull him to his feet. He swayed slightly as the plug shifted in his ass and the fluid sloshed in his guts. Gibbs stood at Tony’s back and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, his hand cupping Tony’s throat. Tony could feel Gibbs’ fingers tighten ever so slightly every time he swallowed and he bit back a groan at the feeling of possession. He was sweating slightly and his knees were shaking. Gibbs ran his free hand over Tony’s distended abdomen before reaching down and grasping Tony’s caged penis. The man was as dexterous as an escape artist and he managed to unlock the cage and remove it without moving his hand from around Tony’s throat. A cramp hit as Gibbs slowly jacked his sensitive dick and Tony groaned. He whimpered when Gibbs let go of him and steered him toward the toilet. Tony bent over, resting his arms on the edge of the sink as Gibbs pulled the plug from his ass – and then he quickly pivoted and sat on the toilet, voiding the fluid and leaving him feeling drained.

Gibbs surprised him again by offering a shower. Tony wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He held his hands out for the removal of the mitts and then climbed into the enclosure carefully, hoping Gibbs wouldn’t change his mind.

Tony washed quickly, taking just enough time to savor the water sluicing over his body but not wasting any time since Gibbs had a five minute rule and soap drying on your skin really itched. The first time Gibbs had allowed Tony a shower he had informed Tony of his five minute rule, but Tony hadn’t believed Gibbs would really enforce it. He still had shampoo in his hair and soap running down his body when the water had been shut off. He had demanded the water be turned back on, even reaching for the faucet. What he’d gotten was ropes and a cage for the rest of the day, and he had thought he would go insane from the itch he couldn’t scratch. The next shower was taken in just under five minutes and he hadn’t gone over since then.

When Tony was finished showering, he dried off quickly and then Gibbs mitted him again and Tony crawled behind Gibbs out into the living room. For once, he was grateful not to have to walk since he still felt a little shaky. He was a bit shocked not to be caged again but the enema had been new as well. Gibbs was planning something but Tony couldn’t help but be happy not to be going back into the cage.

Tony frowned as he watched Gibbs putter about in the kitchen. He wasn’t happy to be mitted but opened his mouth like a baby bird when Gibbs spoon fed him. He had thought Gibbs would remove the mitts if he was going to allow him to eat, but he didn’t complain. In fact, he never uttered a word. He didn’t make a sound. And Gibbs looked far too pleased with himself.

For the next few hours Gibbs put Tony through his paces. He was made to stand, sit, kneel and crawl. He was put into punishment positions and formal postures. He even stood in the corner, nose pressed to the wall. He assumed punishment stances against the wall and in the middle of the room. He abased himself and worshipped at Gibbs’ feet. And he did it without thinking about it because he knew if he engaged his brain at all, he would open his mouth and spout off about something and he would be punished again – and Gibbs would continue the training after the punishment was finished.

By the time Gibbs pointed to the floor at his feet again, Tony was exhausted. He knelt gratefully, his muscles trembling as he struggled to maintain perfect posture. Gibbs waited until he thought he would fall over before standing and motioning for Tony to follow him.

Tony followed Gibbs into the room with the cage and knelt just inside the door as Gibbs dragged a spanking bench out into the middle of the floor. He watched warily, worrying his lip between his teeth, as Gibbs checked the restraints. When Gibbs motioned for Tony to join him, Tony hesitated only a fraction of a second before crawling forward.

Gibbs patted Tony’s bare scalp before helping him onto the bench and fastening the restraints around his limbs, waist, and neck. Tony sighed softly and relaxed against the bench. There was nothing to be done except take the punishment – except he didn’t know what he was being punished for. He had done everything Gibbs had wanted him to do, and all without question or hesitation. Still, Gibbs was the trainer and Tony was the slave. It was his job to submit.

Tony nearly squawked when he felt slick fingers pressing against his hole and he tensed instinctively.

“Relax for me,” Gibbs murmured as one hand gently roamed over Tony’s back. “Breathe.”

Tony let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding, and Gibbs’ finger slipped inside. Tony mewled softly at the intrusion. It didn’t hurt and he’d had fingers in his ass before, but this intrusion wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to be felt up by the facilities’ doctors. He didn’t want to be fingered by his trainers. He didn’t want to be raped as part of some fucked up training. He bit back a sob as Gibbs’ thrust his finger in and out more gently than Tony thought he would. Tony took a breath and forced his body to relax. He knew this could be painful if he fought it and Gibbs had the upper hand. There was no sense in fighting what was happening because this wasn’t his decision.

Tony hissed when a second finger was added alongside the first and gasped when Gibbs crooked his fingers just so, brushing up against Tony’s prostate and sending a jolt of fire through his guts, centering in his nuts. So much for trying to distance himself from what was happening. He gritted his teeth and immediately regretted it when his ass spasmed around Gibbs’ fingers.

“Relax,” Gibbs repeated softly.

“Can’t,” Tony gasped. He bucked in the restraints, desperately trying to get away from those fingers. He didn’t want it to feel good. He didn’t want to like it.

“Shhh,” Gibbs murmured as he added a third finger. “Calm down. Just go with it.”

“No, no, no,” Tony chanted under his breath.

Tony bucked again when Gibbs wrapped a hand around his cock and started jacking him slowly. He growled from between clenched teeth as Gibbs continued to massage his prostate and he sobbed aloud when Gibbs ran a calloused thumb over the head of his dick.

“Please, don’t,” Tony gasped. “Please, Gibbs. Don’t do this.”

“Shh, Tony.” Gibbs’ hand sped up on his cock and Tony keened. He was getting close and he was fighting it with every breath he had. He didn’t want to come from Gibbs’ hand on his dick and with his fingers in his ass. “Give it up for me.”

Tony shook his head. “No!”

Gibbs continued, pressing from the inside as his other hand twisted and pumped his dick. “Come for me.”

Tony clenched everything. He didn’t want to. And he couldn’t resist. When his body finally betrayed his will, he screamed out his frustration as he bucked into Gibbs’ fist, his come spurting from him. Tears ran unchecked down his face and he gulped for air as he collapsed against the bench. He didn’t react when Gibbs unfastened the restraints and only moved off the bench when given a direct order to do so. He waited on his knees for his next command.

After a few minutes Gibbs told Tony to get into his sleeping cage. Tony was actually grateful to be let into the cage and he crawled inside without hesitation. He watched as Gibbs fastened the cage door and then he curled up on his side when Gibbs walked out of the room. He was still shaking and resolutely closed his eyes against the memory of what had just happened. Tony’s eyes had only been closed a few minutes when he heard the door to the room open again. When he saw Gibbs walk back into the room, Tony pushed himself up into a kneeling position.

Gibbs smiled slightly and fastened the bottle of gruel to the side of the cage before walking out again without saying a word. Tony was more tired than hungry but he knew the gruel tasted better fresh so he crawled to the bottle and began to suckle. After a few minutes Tony wiped a mitt across his lips and curled up again. He’d eaten as much as he could and he was too tired to care about anything but sleep.

When Tony woke later it was dark in the room. The lights were set to turn on at seven so he knew it must be earlier than that – and Gibbs usually had him up before then anyway. Tony knew he wasn’t getting out of the cage until Gibbs came for him so he stretched as best as he could in the space and then curled up again. He would sleep while given the chance as he didn’t know what kind of mood Gibbs would be in when he came for him.

~*~

Tony was surprised that Gibbs managed to come into the room without waking him immediately. He opened his eyes when he heard movement, rolling over and stretching before noticing the sounds for what they were. Gibbs was cleaning up the clutter of the last couple of days: putting chains, straps, and other equipment away in the cabinets. Tony rolled to his knees with a muffled groan and waited, his hands at his back and his head lowered. Gibbs would acknowledge him when he was good and ready. Anything else was unimportant for the moment.

After a few minutes Gibbs opened the cage and snapped his fingers. Tony fell forward onto his hands and knees and crawled from the cage, settling into a formal kneel at Gibbs’ feet.

“Bathroom, Tony,” Gibbs said as he unfastened Tony’s mitts. “Brush your teeth while you’re in there. Meet me in the living room.”

Tony rocked forward onto his hands and knees again and crawled from the room. He didn’t know how to process what had happened the evening before but he knew he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Tony hurried through his morning ablutions and then headed for the living room. Gibbs was reading the newspaper and sipping from a steaming mug of coffee. Tony’s mouth watered at the smell as he settled at Gibbs’ feet.

Gibbs ignored Tony for a couple of minutes before folding the paper and setting it aside. He sighed, and Tony clenched his hands into fists as he anticipated Gibbs’ displeasure. “I don’t want you broken, Tony.”

Tony blinked in surprise, barely catching himself in time to keep his head bowed. Broken? How could he not be a little broken after what had happened – and what he was anticipating? He knew that Gibbs would fuck him. It was his _job_ to train him for his new master and Gibbs and Marcus had made it quite clear that Tony was going to be sold soon.

“I want you to submit because you’re a slave and because you need to. But I don’t want you to stop being Tony.”

Tony took a breath, held it for a count of three, and then let it out slowly. He thought Tony was starting to disappear and that thought terrified him.

“Tony, look at me.”

Tony lifted his head, focusing his gaze just over Gibbs’ left shoulder and schooling his features into a mask of bland complacency.

Gibbs sighed again. “Tony,” he repeated, “look at me.”

Tony couldn’t do it. He couldn’t see the disappointment in Gibbs’ eyes – or worse. What if Gibbs really cared about him? He was still going to be fucked and then sold and Gibbs would walk away. Hell, he had already started the process by handing in his resignation. Would Tony be his last – maybe his only – failure? Tony found himself blinking back emotion and he was almost distracted enough to pull away when Gibbs gently grasped his chin and forced Tony to look at him.

Caring? Anger? Hurt? There were too many emotions warring in Gibbs’ eyes for Tony to be sure, and Gibbs didn’t hold his gaze for long. After just a moment Gibbs let go of Tony’s chin and Tony shifted just enough that he was looking over Gibbs’ shoulder once again. Even Gibbs’ sigh wasn’t enough to make him take the chance of looking. Not now. Not when Gibbs wasn’t going to be around to take care of him any longer. He was on his own and the sooner he got a grip on that, the better off he’d be.

~*~

The next few days passed slowly for Tony. Gibbs fucked him, and Tony did his very best not to come apart when Gibbs was gentle with him. He pushed aside the feelings of want that Gibbs elicited in him and tried to be the best slave that he could be. Everything Gibbs asked of him he did with no questions, no hesitation – and he struggled to hang onto that piece of himself that made him who he was. That one little piece he hid away, pushing it down deep where no one could get to it. The rest he gave to his trainer – every other piece of him belonged to Gibbs.

But Gibbs didn’t seem to be happy because of it. He seemed quieter, more withdrawn if that was possible. Tony wondered on the change in his trainer for a moment and then pushed it away. All he could do was be the best he could be. Gibbs would have to take care of Gibbs.

The day Tony walked out into the living room and saw suitcases lined up next to the door, he knew. Not simply falling to his knees was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he knew he hadn’t managed to hide how affected he was when Gibbs cupped his face and stared into his eyes. Tony looked away and Gibbs sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

Gibbs saying he was sorry was tantamount to a nuclear holocaust and Tony nearly wept. Instead, he blinked back the tears and stood in a formal pose, staring over Gibbs’ shoulder at a spot on the wall. He would not look at the suitcases. He couldn’t. Not if he wanted to make it through whatever shit storm was rolling his way.

Gibbs tried to get him to eat breakfast but Tony declined. He knew that if he put any food in his roiling stomach, it would just come back up again. Feeling sick and being sick were two very different things, and Tony did not want to experience the latter. Feeling awful was bad enough. Gibbs didn’t push him too hard and Tony was grateful for his trainer seeming to know how he felt and not forcing him to eat.

Tony tried to be the model slave for Gibbs, but his heart wasn’t in it and, finally, Gibbs told him to kneel at his feet. As Gibbs ran a hand over the short stubble on his head, Tony cried silent tears.

“Go use the bathroom while I clean up. We have a busy morning.”

Tony got to his feet without looking at Gibbs and Gibbs, for his part, simply kept reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee, not sparing Tony even a glance. Tony knew that Gibbs was aware of his tears and leaving him to freshen up on his own was a blessing. He hurried from the room.

Tony pushed the door to the bathroom closed – but not tightly. As a slave, Gibbs had not allowed him the privacy of a closed door and he didn’t want to mess up his last few hours with the man. Tony pulled his towel from the bar by the shower and pressed it to his face as he cried out his hurt and anger at his situation. He didn’t want to lose Gibbs. He didn’t want to go to another trainer. He definitely didn’t want to go to auction. The fear of the unknown threatened to suffocate him and he began to hyperventilate. Dark spots swam in front of his eyes and Tony held his breath for a moment as he sat on the floor and leaned forward, hanging his head between his knees. He had to concentrate on every breath to calm himself, counting the inhales and exhales until finally he could stand again.

Tony washed his face with icy cold water, trying to erase the evidence of tears, but he was afraid everyone would still be able to see his emotions. Looking into the mirror, he realized there was nothing else he could do and he finished up in the bathroom and headed back out in to the living room where Gibbs was waiting for him.

Again, Gibbs cupped his face and looked into his eyes before seeming to decide something. Tony kept his eyes a little unfocused and tried to silently will Gibbs to finish his inspection quickly so they could get on with the worst day of his life. Nothing like jumping right in, pulling the band-aid off with one quick yank instead of drawing out the agony. He lifted his chin when Gibbs attached the leash to his collar and put his hands behind his back so Gibbs could fasten his cuffs together – and they were off.

Tony followed Gibbs through the corridors of the facility, not paying attention to where they were going. He barely heard the occasional voice, having shut the sounds out after the first person congratulated Gibbs on his change of career. Tony could have thrown up and he concentrated on not feeling – anything.

The walk was long enough that Tony felt he was nearing the edge of the world – well, his world, at least. And it was short enough that Tony was surprised when Gibbs led him into a room and pointed to the floor, signaling him to kneel. Tony went to his knees easily, finding the correct form and trying to ignore what was happening around him. It was much more difficult to do than it should have been, and Tony cursed his inability to simply detach himself from his surroundings.

“He’s quite lovely.” The accented voice belonged to a man, and Tony concentrated on breathing evenly to appear unaffected. “And his training is quite finished?”

Gibbs sighed. “Of course. I don’t leave slaves untrained for their service. You know this.”

The man coughed. “Of course, Mister Gibbs. But I had to ask.”

“Of course.” Tony could tell that Gibbs was angry and trying to hide it. They were talking about Gibbs fucking him as if it was a life or death thing. He had no idea why it was so important that he be _trained_ to get fucked, but it was. So much so that this man wouldn’t just drop it. And why did it hurt hearing Gibbs verify that he’d done this before? Of course he had. Tony obviously wasn’t the first slave he had trained.

Someone sighed and Tony assumed it was the new man. “You may leave now, Gibbs. We have much to do to get this one ready for auction.”

Gibbs grunted and huffed out a breath, almost as if he wanted to say something. Instead, he patted Tony’s shoulder quickly and then moved away.

“Good luck, Gibbs,” the man said as he gathered Tony’s leash in his fist. “It looks like you did a good job here. Too bad you’re leaving. We can always use more trainers who can take a reluctant slave like this one and make him into something the center is proud to sell.”

Tony’s breath stilled for a moment. Of course. That was exactly what Gibbs did. He took reluctant slaves – and who had been more reluctant than him? – and molded them until they wanted to please the man. While he had managed not to fall into the traps every other trainer had set for him, he’d fallen right into the one Gibbs had set for him. He just hadn’t realized it until now. Gibbs had broken him after all by making him believe he had actually cared. And now he was simply walking away and Tony was left with absolutely nothing.

Gibbs turned to Tony then but Tony kept his head bowed, refusing to even glance his way. Gibbs had abandoned him. He didn’t owe the man anything. And then Gibbs was walking away and Tony felt his heart shatter with every echoing step.

And then the door slammed shut, and Tony was lost.

Tony very nearly missed his next command but quickly pulled himself together as the new trainer started talking to him, reciting a new set of rules to him that would apparently carry him through to the auction – which would be held the very next evening. At least he didn’t have long to wait.

Tony followed Trainer Anders deeper into the cavernous space that was the holding area for the auction. The space contained row upon row of cages; some large, some not. Many of the cages held slaves; slaves who looked resigned to their fate or just plain lost. As Tony walked along behind Trainer Anders, he sank deeper and deeper into his own mind and, as his own cage door closed behind him, he merely sank to the floor, curling up around that one little spark of Tony DiNozzo that was left deep inside of him. Nurturing that spark was the most important thing to him because that one little spark was going to set him free. Now that Gibbs had abandoned him to his fate, Tony could think of nothing more than escaping. Funny how that hadn’t seemed so important even a week ago.

Tony’s fingers worried at the edge of the blanket he was lying on and then he realized that he maybe didn’t have to attend the auction at all. The thought of escape had kept him going – but what if he was never going to be free again? Would it be worth it to hang on? And what were the chances of him escaping now that he was being sold? A new owner was a complete unknown and there were no safeguards in place. An owner could basically do whatever he or she pleased and no one would stop them. Because Tony was no longer a person. He was nothing more than a possession now and would be for the rest of his life, however long or short that may be.

So, could he escape once he was sold? Or was this his final chance to thumb his nose at everyone and everything in this fucked up place?

Tony sat up and lifted the blanket onto his lap. He stretched it out lengthwise and began to roll it. It would make a fine noose. He would just have to make sure he tied it tightly enough. Good thing he had been placed in a full-sized cage. As his luck was no doubt the result of Gibbs’ glowing account of his training, Tony had to thank Gibbs for the opportunity. Ironic didn’t even begin to cover it.

Tony had tied one end of the blanket to the top of the cage when his cage door was flung open. He turned and saw Trainer Anders move to one side and two very large men enter the cage. There was nowhere to hide but there was a slim chance that he could slip past the men and make it out of there. And once he was free, he would run as far and as fast as he possibly could.

The men moved in and Tony dodged the first one, slipping past him easily. They obviously hadn’t expected him to resist and he spun around the other one – and faced the taser Anders held on him. He barely had time to register the weapon before Anders pulled the trigger, and Tony’s body was overwhelmed by the surge of electricity. He was unconscious when he hit the floor.

~*~

Tony didn’t know what he expected when he opened his eyes, but the strait jacket probably wasn’t it. He was curled in a small cage that was up off the floor and, as he looked around, he realized he was actually at table height. There wasn’t enough room to twist around in the tiny cage. Tony could feel a weight around his ankle anyway so he was probably chained as well. It seemed like overkill to him but who was he to complain?

Tony sighed and blinked his eyes slowly. He licked his lips as he tried to remember what had happened. Fragments of memory were floating around in his mind but he was having trouble putting all the pieces together.

“You’re awake.”

The voice startled him and Tony could do nothing but watch as a dark-haired man walked into view. He recognized the voice, the soft accent lending a melody to the man’s words. Tony worried at his lower lip as he looked beyond the man. Where was Gibbs?

As his gaze met that of the strange man again, Tony remembered. Tears filled his eyes as he remembered seeing Gibbs walk away from him. He remembered the cage and thinking that the blanket was his only way out.

The man pulled up a chair and took a seat right in Tony’s line of sight. “What were you thinking, boy?”

Tony closed his eyes again, willing the tears he was feeling not to start.

Anders sighed. “If I were a betting man, I would place a wager that you became _attached_ to your trainer, Mister Gibbs.”

Tony stilled, barely daring to breathe.

“Mister Gibbs was just doing a job and it appears he did it very well. He got you to trust him and you’d been through more trainers in the short time you’d been with us than most slaves go through in years.” Tony heard the chair squeak slightly and surmised that Anders had leaned forward, toward the cage. “The auction is tomorrow. You will be sold and you will forget about your time here as you acclimate to your new life. It will be easy for you to imprint on your new owner since it was so easy for you to attach yourself to Mister Gibbs.”

Tony bit back a snort, not wanting to show any response to the man watching him. Easy? He thought it had been easy? The months had been hell and Gibbs had been the only relatively sane spot in the entire mess of his new life. Even that hadn’t made it _easy_ to learn to trust the man. But he realized he’d been had. Gibbs hadn’t really cared. He had simply been his trainer – and Tony had fallen for his trickery. He wouldn’t be so eager to trust again.

Tony heard shuffling sounds and when Anders didn’t say anything else, he figured he was alone again. Not wanting to deal with anything, he kept his eyes closed – and slept again after a few short minutes.

~*~

Anders had woken him with an injection to the hip and an excruciatingly embarrassing trip to the bathroom. He hadn’t protested when the man changed out his training collar for a new one or the new restraints. Tony’s cuffed wrists were fastened to his collar with a short chain now, rendering his arms useless – but at least the strait jacket was gone. It had been exceedingly uncomfortable, hot and itchy, and Tony had sighed in relief as Anders had removed it. By that time the drugs Anders had injected him with were coursing freely through his veins, and Tony hadn’t the dexterity to fend him off. He also couldn’t be bothered to care about what was happening to him so the shower, enema, depilation, restraints, and bottle feeding didn’t faze him.

Tony followed Anders, his body on auto-pilot and his mind wandering from what was going on around him. He barely registered where they were going or the relative hustle and bustle of the behind-the-scenes activities leading up to the impending auction. They passed more people roaming the corridors than he’d encountered in his entire time at the training facility up to this point, but he dismissed them quickly. Everything seemed to be swimming around him and it was all he could do to remain on his feet, so caring about the commotion was beyond him.

Tony went to his knees gratefully when prompted. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, swaying slightly as he struggled to maintain his position. His head was spinning and he thought he might be hungry again. As he knelt, Anders had simply fastened Tony’s leash to the hook set high on the wall and then walked away. There were others in the room but they were quiet and Tony soon forgot them as he drifted.

Just as Tony began to notice his surroundings again, someone tugged on his leash. He got to his feet and followed meekly. He was taken to a bathroom where he was able to void his bladder. He was then given another injection and allowed a bottle feeding, the pap tasting like a slightly fruity version of paste.

Tony knelt again and this time he could tell he was in a smaller space and there were more people walking past. Some led slaves on leashes and some merely looked harried. Voices rang out and Tony settled into position, tuning out the noise as much as possible until it was just a hum in the background of his mind. The drugs were making him sleepy and he drifted; not really napping, but very relaxed.

Sometime later Tony roused as his leash was tugged on and he stumbled to his feet. He took a sip of water from the proffered water bottle, rinsing the foul metallic taste from his mouth before spitting into the cup held to his mouth for that purpose. Tony’s chains were rearranged, his arms behind his back this time and a longer chain between his ankles that allowed him to walk easily as long as he didn’t try to take a large step. A quick trip to the bathroom, and then his leash was attached to a tie point in a narrow hallway. The leash wasn’t long enough for him to fall into a kneel but it was awkward for him to just stand and look around. There were other slaves in the hallway, tied as he was, and it made him uncomfortable to see them.

Tony dipped his chin, looking down at the floor between his feet. Trainers walked among the slaves, primping and petting. Tony nearly shied away from the hands that were suddenly on him – but the drugs in his system prevented him from caring enough to do so. Vaguely, he wondered if his new owner would keep him drugged – or would he be expected to actually participate in his own degradation? The thought seeped from his mind almost as soon as he’d thought it, and he was distracted by the trainer turning him to face the wall. A firm hand pressed him forward and Tony finally sighed softly as he leaned his forehead against the wall. His feet were spread to shoulder width and his chains adjusted; his wrist chain was attached to the back of his collar, pulling his arms up and thrusting his chest out slightly. The trainer also rubbed a light oil into his skin, not missing any part of him, and then left him standing again with a firm pat to his ass and a murmured “be right back”.

Tony waited, closing his eyes and letting the noise wash over and around him.

When his leash was tugged, Tony followed, walking with his head up and his eyes down like the trainers had drilled into him since he’d gotten to the facility. He didn’t register the slave and trainer who walked past them, just simply followed where he was led. Up a few steps, and the noise level increased. It was warm and the lights were bright and he followed the directions put forth by the trainer.

Voices surged. Someone nearby was talking quickly, making Tony’s head spin. The trainer must have sensed his building unease because he soothed Tony with a quick stroke and a murmured “good boy”. Tony settled, relaxing into the gentle touch. He sighed and blinked slowly against the glare.

And then Tony was following the barked orders of the trainer who held his leash. The orders were easy, the various positions having been drilled into him until he thought he could perform them in his sleep. He wasn’t even breathing hard when the trainer finally let him stand at parade rest; feet spread to just past shoulder width. His hands were already restrained behind his back and Tony lifted his chin and lowered his gaze. His mind drifted until the trainer grasped his flaccid cock and quickly stroked him to a burgeoning erection. The crowd went wild as the auctioneer opened the bidding and Tony closed his eyes as he fought the urge to hump the air.

“Sold to number four two four!”

Tony heard the words but couldn’t fathom their meaning and he allowed the trainer to lead him back down the steps and along the corridor again. He was caged, his chains removed just before he ducked and crawled inside. There was no blanket but there was a thin mat, and Tony curled up on it with a soft sigh. He was so tired.

He dreamed of school, his friends ignoring him like he wasn’t even there, and then he felt the tug of a leash and looked down. He was chained and naked and his friends were simply treating him as they would any other slave – as a non-person. He wanted to cry out against the injustice of it all. It was his life against the shortfall in his father’s estate. Anthony DiNozzo had sold his son for a chance at a get out of jail free card. Apparently the training center had thought him worth the price because they had signed the papers. He wondered if they were right.

~*~

“Mister Jackson.”

Tony blinked his eyes open, wondering for a moment where he was. Hazy memories drifted in his mind but he found it difficult to put them in any order – and which were real and which were just figments of his dreams.

“Knees!”

Tony scurried around before he’d even registered the shiny shoes in front of his cage. Suddenly he felt like barking. Heel! Sit! He swallowed against a rise of bile and took shallow breaths, trying to stave off throwing up on those shiny shoes.

The door to his cage opened and fingers snapped. He crawled out of the cage and knelt in front of the shiny shoes.

“Well, he’s as pretty up close as he was on that stage.”

The slight drawl was lost on Tony as memories swamped his mind. The auction wasn’t a dream at all. He’d been sold. Tony took a breath, gagging on his sudden fear. A hand pressed on the back of his head, pushing him forward over his knees.

“Close your eyes. Deep, even breaths.”

Tony sagged and his hands dropped.

“Hands behind your back!”

Tony struggled back into position, sighing softly in relief when a chain was clipped onto his cuffs. He relaxed again and concentrated on simply breathing. He had been sold and the man with the soft drawl was most likely his new owner. But who was he? Jackson? Had that been the name he had heard? Mister Jackson. Fuck, he had a new owner.

Tony couldn’t stop shivering and he heard a put-upon sigh, making him cringe and sink more fully toward the floor. A movement in front of him made him flinch and then a gentle hand patted his head.

“Come on, boy. Let’s get you out of here.”

Tony knelt up and a leash was clipped to his new collar. A sharp tug pulled him to his feet and he stumbled along behind his new owner.

The man wasn’t what Tony had expected. He was too old, for one thing, and Tony wondered if Mister Jackson was going to want to have sex with him. Not that the man didn’t seem adorable in a grandfatherly kind of way – but sex? Tony shuddered. Please, no. Mister Jackson was shorter and plumper than Tony had envisioned his new owner to be when he had allowed himself to think of such a thing. Shorter, rounder, grayer – older. But he had a twinkle in his bright blue eyes that told of a sense of humor – and maybe mischief. Tony was intrigued in spite of himself. And all of that from a glance.

Tony’s feet stumbled on the warm concrete as they stepped from the building. There was no courtyard, no walls closing him in. He could see forever… at least that’s what it seemed like after a year of staring at four dingy walls. All he could think of was escape. But he was trussed up pretty good: not only were his hands chained behind him, but that chain was attached to the shackles at his ankles as well. He was short chained and forced to take small steps, and Mister Jackson was tugging on the leash.

“Come on, boy. We need to get going. This city makes my skin itch.”

Tony stared at the back of his owner’s head as he carefully maneuvered down the steep steps. Mister Jackson had noticed his trouble and had taken hold of an arm, steadying him. It would be nicer if his owner would unchain him, though. A quick shove and he could escape.

“Quit day dreaming, boy. You’re slowing me down.” Mister Jackson held up a hand. “And don’t even think about me unchaining you. That look in your eyes tells me you’d jackrabbit outta here faster than I could follow. I’d never hear the end of it and you probably wouldn’t survive it even if you do have a plan.” He grinned when Tony gaped. “You think I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Think again. Now come on.”

Tony followed, grumbling under his breath about know-it-all old men.

The car wasn’t what Tony was expecting. It was an old Dodge Challenger – yellow and black. It was gorgeous. He whistled under his breath.

“Like her?” his new owner asked, and Tony blushed and ducked his head.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.”

Apparently his new owner was a man of few words, and Tony shook his head as Mister Jackson opened the passenger side door for him.

“You could crawl in the back and kneel for the whole ride but it would be damn uncomfortable, not to mention I’m not as spry as I used to be and I don’t feel like crawling in there with you to tether this damn leash – so get in the front.”

Tony blinked. So much for Mister Jackson being a man of few words. He smiled a little and started to kneel on the floorboards of the front seat.

“Oh, for crying out loud. Just sit on the damn seat already.”

Tony flinched away from the anger, and Mister Jackson sighed loudly.

“Look, Tony. I’m not mad and you don’t have to worry about me beating you or anything – but we need to get going. We have a long drive ahead of us.”

Tony nodded and slipped into the car, sitting on the seat self-consciously, leaning forward just a little to keep the pressure off his bound hands.

Another sigh. “Put your head on your knees, boy.”

Tony bent forward. He felt his chains fall away and felt the rush of _need_ again – but his ankles were hobbled and he wouldn’t get far before his owner ran him down – and that was saying something.

“Lace your fingers behind your head – and quit fretting! You’re not running away on my watch so settle down.” He clipped Tony’s wrist cuffs together as soon as Tony’s hands were in position.

Tony’s thoughts were spinning. Mister Jackson had obviously owned a slave before. He was too good with the chains not to have had practical experience.

“Lift your butt.”

Tony did and immediately, the chain he’d been sitting on was pulled forward. Mister Jackson bent down on one knee and fastened the chain up under the seat. Well, it sure looked like he wasn’t going anywhere now. A pat on his arm startled him.

“Relax. And sit up.”

The old man fastened Tony’s seatbelt carefully, trapping his bound arms with the belt. No wild swinging or hitting. Huh. He hadn’t even thought of it now that he was chained to the seat. But his owner obviously had.

“That seatbelt comfy?”

Tony blinked up at the old man. “It’s okay, Master.” He bit his lip and decided it was worth a try. “Maybe a little rough on the edges. Could I possibly have some clothes?”

Mister Jackson patted him again and chuckled. “You never quit, do you?” He shut the car door carefully and, as he walked away, Tony could hear him mumbling about someone warning him that “the kid would give him a hard time”. He was still laughing when he got in behind the wheel. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride, boy.”

Tony sighed and looked out the window as they pulled out of the parking lot. At least he was seeing the last of that ugly building.

“You know why I’m not giving you clothes, right?”

Tony nodded.

“You’re less apt to try to run if you’re naked. Not that you’re going anywhere with that chain on your legs. But you can’t be too careful with precious cargo and I need to get you home in one piece. You were one expensive purchase, you know. Never thought I’d buy a slave – much less spend that kind of money on one! But I’m told you’re pretty special and sometimes you just need to do what’s right for the right reasons.”

The old man fell silent then, and Tony wondered just what the hell he’d meant by all that – but he wasn’t talking. And Tony wasn’t about to ask, since he had already said too much. It wasn’t a good idea to antagonize the man and wind up gagged or hooded for the ride. Nope. Tony was curious – but he wasn’t a fool.

The miles flew by and Tony began to nod off, finally leaning his head against the window frame and dozing. He wasn’t going anywhere, and the hum of the tires on the road was actually soothing.

~*~

The terrain had changed when Tony opened his eyes some indeterminate time later. He yawned and wished his hands were free so he could wipe the sleep from his eyes. He settled for blinking a few times and rubbing his face against his shoulders. Whereas the area around Washington had been relatively flat, the scenery now was mountainous and full of trees. He sighed. It looked like New England, and he knew they had gone quite a way north. He must have been sleeping for at least a few hours.

“You need to use the facilities, boy?”

Tony knew he should say yes but really didn’t want to be paraded through a rest area in his birthday suit. He worried at his lower lip.

“Not really one for crowds myself,” his owner said, filling the silence of Tony’s hesitation. “I’m not one for naked slaves in public but this is a safer way to travel. Don’t think I don’t know how badly you want to get away from me. You don’t know it, but I’m your best bet right now. So – if you need to take a leak, I’ll pull off the highway. I know this area and we can find somewhere a mite more private to take care of business. So, what do you say?”

Tony nodded. “Yes, Master. I need to – use the facilities.”

Mister Jackson chuckled at Tony’s parroting and pulled over into the right hand lane of the highway. The next exit was coming up. He took a few turns off the exit and, true to his word, they were in a wooded area. Mister Jackson led Tony into the woods, fully shackled again, and stood at his back holding the leash while Tony relieved himself. When that was finished, he gave Tony a wet wipe and grinned when Tony raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got a cooler in the back. Dinner. Thought you might want to wipe your hands clean.”

Tony shook his head as he wiped his hands. Mister Jackson was a dangerous man. He was too easy to like, and that wasn’t a good thing as far as Tony was concerned. He’d already been there once with Gibbs and he didn’t want to like Mister Jackson like that. It was too easy to get hurt when you let your heart get involved.

Dinner was a quick affair: sandwiches by the side of the road. Mister Jackson stowed everything back in the cooler, secured Tony back in his seat, and got back on the road.

They weren’t on the highway much longer when Mister Jackson took an exit and got onto a two lane country road.

“Are we close?” Tony could have beaten himself for the unsolicited question but he was too afraid of the potential fall out to apologize, so he simply bit his lip and waited for the explosion.

What he got was a soft chuckle. “Oh yeah – you’re gonna be trouble, all right.”

“Sorry, Master.”

“Nothing to worry about, Tony. It’s okay to ask questions sometimes. You just need to remember where you are and try not to screw up too badly in public. That could get you _and_ your owner in a whole heap of trouble.”

His owner. Mister Jackson talked as if he wasn’t that man – or wasn’t going to remain that man for long. Was he to be sold again so soon then? Tony sighed softly.

“What’s wrong, boy?”

Tony glanced at Mister Jackson and then away again.

“I asked you a question and I expect an answer.”

Tony took a breath. He hated being owned and it had only been a few hours. But he was too vulnerable not to comply with the order. “It sounds as if you’re going to sell me again – Master.”

“How so?” Mister Jackson seemed genuinely confused, and Tony wondered if he’d misread the man’s words.

“Uh – you said me and my owner – like that wasn’t you or isn’t going to be you. It made me think that you would sell me again.” Tony hesitated for a few seconds. “Did you buy me thinking you could turn a quick profit? Are you going to sell me to a brothel or something? Please don’t –”

Jackson cut him off. “Relax, boy.”

Tony bit his lip nervously.

“I’m not going to sell you so stop worrying – and quit biting that lip! You’re going to eat right through that thing.”

Tony blushed furiously.

“Now relax and try to get some sleep. We’re still a ways out.”

Tony wanted to ask “out from where” but knew his questions weren’t welcomed right now so he settled as best as he was able and closed his eyes, his head lolling against the window.

~*~

Tony roused a couple of times as the car slowed or briefly stopped, but he kept his eyes closed and soon dozed again as the car sped up. The sound of the tires on the road was soothing and the white noise kept him drifting between fully asleep and not quite awake – but his rest was far from restful. Images of his future kept flashing through his head and they weren’t pretty. But then slavery never was – at least in the stories he’d grown up with and with his experiences of the last year. He vividly remembered his injuries, degradation, aches and pains and punishments. He was petrified of what his future would hold and hadn’t lost enough of himself yet to give up caring about it – hence the dreams.

It was the absence of sound that finally woke him. Tony blinked open his eyes and looked around. His new owner had climbed out of the car and he stretched before slamming the door shut. Tony watched him warily as the man walked around the car. He was limping slightly and he rested his hand on the hood of the car as he walked. Tony had the fleeting feeling that he could definitely get away from this man if he wasn’t chained. It gave him hope for the future because there was no way his owner would keep him in chains for every minute. At some point he would learn to trust Tony, and it would be his downfall. Tony could see the light at the end of the tunnel now and there was no way he was losing sight of it ever again.

Tony looked down at his bare legs as Mister Jackson opened his door, holding his breath as his seatbelt was unfastened and his leash was clipped to his collar. He followed meekly behind his owner as they headed toward what looked like a general store. And then they bypassed the store, which looked closed, and headed toward the house that looked to be attached to the store. It was – odd, and Tony wondered if perhaps his owner _owned_ the shop and if he’d be working in it. If that was the case, he hoped he would be clothed. Clothes would also allow him to blend in when he ran away.

Tony heard a chuckle and looked up. His owner was standing on the steps in front of the closed door. “Welcome to my home, Tony.”

Tony dipped his chin. “Thank you, Master,” he answered, being careful to keep his voice soft and respectful.

“If you’re looking to get away, everyone knows everyone here and you won’t get very far.”

Tony looked up at his owner quickly, unable to hide his surprise. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good to try and deny his desire to run away. Instead, he simply lowered his head again and waited for Mister Jackson to make the next move. He felt like there were butterflies in his stomach: maybe Mister Jackson wasn’t going to be the pushover Tony had hoped for.

For his part, Mister Jackson simply turned and opened the door, tugging gently on Tony’s leash to get him moving again. Tony was still looking down at the ground as his feet hit the linoleum floor.

“Well, son, we’re home!”

Son? Tony wasn’t sure if his owner had called him son by mistake (in which case it would be easier to exploit that relationship to his benefit) or whether there was someone else living in this house. He was almost afraid to look…

“Hi, Dad. I see you got what you went to DC for.”

Tony stilled, his breath catching in his throat. He recognized that voice. But he had to be mistaken.

“Well, Leroy, I always try to finish my missions as laid out. You know that.”

Tony heard a throaty laugh and his knees almost buckled. There was silence for a moment and Tony was trying to get the courage needed to look up and see who else was in the room.

“Aren’t you going to say hi, Tony?”

Tony was stunned. He looked up quickly. How the hell did that happen? Mister Jackson couldn’t be Gibbs’ father – could he?

Gibbs grinned. “Tony, meet Jackson Gibbs – my father.”

Tony couldn’t catch his breath and he felt his vision begin to gray.

Gibbs snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor. “Knees! Now.”

Tony looked at Jackson. If Jackson was his owner and he followed Gibbs’ orders, he could be in big trouble. But he thought it was probably a very good idea to get on the floor before he fell there.

Jackson chuckled again. “Boy, I bought you specifically to gift you to Leroy here. Best get on your knees before you pass out.”

Tony dropped to his knees as gracefully as he was able, given the chains and his lightheadedness. He barely flinched at the hand on the back of his neck, pressing him forward.

“Breathe, Tony.” He felt Gibbs’ hand on his newly shaved head and sank deeper into position. It felt amazing… but he was so confused.

“Don’t think about it.”

Tony nodded against Gibbs’ hand and tried to relax, but his mind was awhirl. A sharp slap to the back of his head made him gasp and then he grinned against his knees.

“Stop thinking so hard.”

Tony focused on Gibbs’ presence and let everything else fall away. There would be time later to find out how and why this had happened. For now he was going to take a breath and let life flow around him. He would think about his future later – after he figured everything else out.

Tony didn’t know how long he knelt but when Gibbs tapped him on the shoulder and told him to kneel up, he swayed a little. It had been a while then.

“You’ve got questions.” Gibbs was sitting on a chair in front of him. Jackson was not in the immediate vicinity that Tony could see.

Tony bit his lip and looked down at the floor. “Why did your father buy me?”

“Because I asked him to.” True to form, Gibbs didn’t really answer the question.

Tony sighed.

“Another question?” Gibbs asked.

“Your father said he bought me for you so … why didn’t you just buy me?”

Gibbs was quiet for a moment and Tony wondered if he was going to get an answer. “Because trainers at the center are forbidden in their contract from purchasing the slaves they trained.”

Tony looked at Gibbs. “But you don’t work there anymore.”

Gibbs shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s in my contract.”

Tony fell silent. Gibbs had wanted him enough to purchase him. “Did you quit because of this?”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “This?”

Tony snorted. “This,” he repeated with emphasis. “Did you quit because it was time for me to go to auction?”

Gibbs looked away and Tony thought he almost looked embarrassed. Tony wanted to smile but thought better of it. The silence lengthened and then Gibbs stood. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

Tony got to his feet, marveling that he could do it so easily in full shackles. He bit back another sigh and promised himself he would still run away – no matter that he belonged to Gibbs now. If Gibbs had quit his job so he could own him, then he’d be easier to slip away from. Tony smiled as he followed Gibbs up the steep stairs. Gibbs had taught him how to move easily in his chains. His trainer – and now, if Gibbs and his father were to be believed, his new owner.

His smile fell away when he stepped into a room behind Gibbs. It was a bare room and in the center was a large cage. He looked at Gibbs, who was staring at him with his arms folded over his chest.

“Do you need to use the bathroom?”

Tony looked down at the floor. “Yes.” Tony hesitated for a moment. “Um, Master?”

Gibbs gestured with his head toward a door to the right of the cage. The bathroom was equipped with a shower stall, sink and toilet. There was an unopened toothbrush on the counter beside a tube of toothpaste. A set of towels were hanging on a rack between the sink and shower.

“Take a shower.”

Tony stood still while Gibbs removed his shackles and then moved to the shower stall.

“Come out when you’re finished.”

Tony didn’t answer. His mind was too full. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened to him in the last two days: Gibbs leaving him, the meltdown, the drugs, the auction, the sale to a stranger – who just so happened to have bought him as a gift to his son, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. His emotions were all over the place but he couldn’t afford to lose sight of what it was he really wanted – his freedom. No matter what Gibbs did or said, Tony knew he was going to run away as soon as he got the chance.

When Tony finally stepped back into the room with the cage -- _his_ room, he supposed – Gibbs was standing in the middle of the room holding a set of chains in his hands. Tony sighed and stepped forward.

“Don’t think I don’t know that your every thought revolves around escaping from me – from being a slave.”

Tony looked down at the floor.

“Tony,” Gibbs said, his fingers gently lifting Tony’s chin until he met Tony’s eyes, “you can’t go back to before. There is no Tony DiNozzo. He’s been wiped from the books and, in his place, lives Tony the slave who belongs to Mister Jackson.”

Tony looked up. “I thought your father bought me for you.”

Gibbs nodded. “Shh. Just stand here and let me look at you.” It was as if Gibbs needed to be sure Tony was still in one piece – and he’d only been away from him for a day. Gibbs ran his hands over Tony’s body as if searching for any imperfection or change from when he’d seen him last. Tony stared at him the entire time but Gibbs never once looked into his eyes.

“Listen to me.”

Tony bit his lip and looked away.

“You still belong to my father, but not exactly. Mister Jackson owns you because Jackson Gibbs wouldn’t have been able to purchase the slave his son trained. Now, the law states that a slave owner has to own a slave for a minimum of seven days before reselling it. Seven days, Tony. Before that week is up, the center may step in and remove you from his care for the slightest infraction so we have to be careful.” Gibbs sighed. “Look, Tony. It’s complicated but, legally, you belong to Jackson and he will register you in the morning. You will remain here with him – as his slave – and I will return to my home.”

“But –” Gibbs’ finger against his lips stopped his words.

“I will return to my home and you will be the model slave for my father. You will not try to con him into leaving you unchained. You will not try to run away. You will not speak to anyone out of turn. You have a week, Tony, and, if in that time you screw up you will be remanded back to the facility to be sold again. Do you understand?”

Tony nodded. The words frightened him more than he cared to admit. Another auction and there would be no safety net. He’d be sold and lost into a system that abused and exploited slaves every day. At least here, Tony knew he was cared for and would be protected. He could only hope that someday Gibbs or Jackson would forget how much he wanted out and begin to trust him. Then he would make his move.

Gibbs chained Tony and then put him in the cage. “Get some sleep, Tony.”

~*~

It was Mister Jackson –Gibbs, Tony corrected mentally – that came to let him out of the cage in the morning. Tony was kneeling in the exact center of the small space and had been doing so long enough to begin to feel it in his shins and knees. But Gibbs was his trainer and Mister Gibbs was his Master and… it was too confusing.

“Use the bathroom and come right back out to me.”

Tony got to his feet easily despite the pain in his knees and headed into the bathroom. He had showered the night before so using the toilet, brushing his teeth, and splashing water on his face would do, and he walked out into the other room in about five minutes. Mister Gibbs – no, Master Jackson – handed him a pair of drawstring pants and Tony stared at them for a moment before lifting his gaze to look at his new owner.

“Put ‘em on, Tony.”

Tony hesitated for a moment. He hadn’t worn clothing in months. Putting the pants on felt strange and wonderful all at the same time. As he wasn’t given a shirt, he merely put his hands behind his back when he was finished and waited for Master Jackson to tell him what came next.

Master Jackson set about fastening Tony’s chains to his cuffs. “We’re heading to the town hall this morning and then you’re going to help me in the store. I expect you to be on your best behavior this morning and to be polite to my customers when you’re working with me. You will not speak unless spoken to and you will stick by me. Understood?”

Tony nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Questions?”

Tony started to shake his head and then thought of something. “Why do we have to go to the town hall?”

“To finish your registration,” Master Jackson answered as he fastened Tony’s leash. “I could have done it in DC but I would have had to wait until this morning and I wanted to be away from there.”

Tony nodded. He was happy to be away from there as well, and a smaller town would give him more opportunities to slip away. Less people watching and all that.

Master Jackson tugged on Tony’s leash and Tony followed, eager to see just what this town was all about. He stumbled to a stop as they rounded the house and set foot on the sidewalk. Master Jackson halted when the leash grew taut and he turned with a raised brow.

“You’re not going to give me any trouble this morning, are you, Tony?”

Tony gaped. The town wasn’t small. It’s was miniscule. Master Jackson had said that everyone knew everyone else but, from the looks of things, there wouldn’t be anywhere for him to hide either. A sharp tug on the leash caught his attention and he turned his attention to Master Jackson.

“You okay?”

Tony nodded.

“Then let’s get moving before we draw attention that neither of us wants.”

The walk to the town hall was just over a block long and in that time Master Jackson greeted easily a half dozen people, calling them by name and inquiring about a family member or a job situation or just commenting on the weather. In one case he actually informed the person that a wanted item had been delivered to the store the previous day. How the hell he remembered it all was beyond Tony but he paid attention to the conversations even while trying to disappear into the background. He could tell he was a curiosity but Master Jackson didn’t introduce him and, even though people were curious, they didn’t press for his identity.

As they climbed the steps to the town hall, Master Jackson chuckled. “You will be the talk of the town for a while.”

“Why?” Tony asked, hoping Master Jackson wouldn’t mind the question. “Master,” he added a little belatedly.

Master Jackson pushed open the door and they stepped inside. “For one, you’re the only slave in town. For two, I’m not the first person people think of when they picture a slave owner. It’s no secret that I wasn’t happy with Leroy’s chosen career. I always knew he could do better for himself, but after he lost the girls he was a different man. He was recruited to be a slave trainer because of his experiences – training Marines.”

Tony hadn’t known any of this, of course. He wanted to ask about who “the girls” were but they were at the town clerk’s office and Master Jackson shot him a look that said “behave” as he opened the door to the office. Tony immediately went to his knees at Master Jackson’s side when the other man stepped up to the counter.

It seemed like Master Jackson knew everyone in town and the clerk, Mabel, was no exception. Mabel flirted shamelessly with Master Jackson and Tony had a sneaking suspicion that she was sweet on the old man. Tony found it amusing and Master Jackson obviously found it embarrassing. If Tony was free, he would tease the man – good-naturedly, of course. But he wasn’t free and could only smile as he knelt with his head bowed.

The paperwork took longer than it probably should have but Master Jackson was a polite man and put up with Mabel’s shenanigans for far longer than Tony thought Gibbs would have. There was also quiet talk about Mister Jackson versus Mister Gibbs and Tony thought Mabel would have done anything Master Jackson wanted when he brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. Mabel blushed and Tony was registered as legally belonging the Mister Jackson.

Tony looked at Master Jackson with newfound respect as he got to his feet and followed the man out of the clerks’ office. Master Jackson had charm and Tony wondered how much of the father was in the son. That thought made Tony ponder the differences in the two men and he vowed to study Master Jackson over the next week. Maybe by studying Master Jackson he could get a handle on who his Gibbs really was.

An ownership tag was affixed to Tony’s collar and then he and Master Jackson left the town hall. The walk back was quiet, and again Tony watched as Master Jackson interacted with the townsfolk. He was impressed with the ease and caring Master Jackson exhibited. He wasn’t gushy-friendly, but he was familiar and obviously knew just about everything about everyone.

All too soon they were entering the store through the house and Tony watched as Master Jackson tied on an apron before walking over to Tony with another apron in his hands. “Let’s get this on you. Time to open up and get the day started.”

Tony scrambled to obey and then Master Jackson slipped the loop on the end of Tony’s leash over his wrist and moved to unlock the door. As he turned over the “closed” sign, Master Jackson told Tony to stick close and pay attention. Tony rolled his eyes behind Master Jackson’s back. Stick close? Really? Where exactly was he going to be but close when Master Jackson was holding on to his leash?

Almost as soon as the door was unlocked, the first customer entered the store. Tony watched his new owner closely and noticed that a lot of the customers were watching _him_. But he was on his best behavior and stayed close to Master Jackson at all times. He monitored the length of the leash to keep within the proper distance but not so close that he would be in Master Jackson’s way when he moved. It was taxing and by lunchtime Tony was exhausted.

When the first lull in foot traffic came about, Master Jackson flipped the “open” sign to “closed” and stretched his back out before turning to Tony and telling him to follow. He had dropped Tony’s leash after locking the door so the length of chain slapped him in the chest as he hurried after the old man, ducking behind the counter and through the door into Master Jackson’s kitchen.

“Sit.” His owner motioned to the kitchen table and Tony sat quickly, afraid that Master Jackson would take it back and tell him to kneel on the linoleum.

In the space of just a couple of minutes, Master Jackson set two bottles of Coke on the table and followed it up with two plates with sandwiches on them. Once Master Jackson sat he motioned for Tony to eat as he picked up his own sandwich and took a huge bite.

“Eat up, boy,” Master Jackson said around a mouthful. “I don’t close the store for more than fifteen minutes for lunch. And the afternoons are usually busier than the mornings.” Master Jackson chuckled. “Although, given how busy this morning was, we just might be a little slower than normal this afternoon.” He shook his head. “Word sure does spread fast around here.”

Tony didn’t know what to say or if he was allowed to say anything so he merely shrugged and set to work finishing his sandwich.

The afternoon was nearly as busy as the morning and Tony was happy to see Master Jackson flip the “closed” sign over in the window at the end of the day. He stretched and yawned, blushing when he saw Master Jackson watching him.

“You did a good job today, Tony.”

Tony dipped his chin. “Thank you, Master, but I didn’t actually do much.”

Master Jackson snorted. “Nonsense. You were a big help today and you didn’t get upset by all that attention.”

“Master?”

Master Jackson smiled. “All those people were here to see you. Oh sure – they bought something, which was a big plus, but they were here to check out the new slave in town – and you made me very proud.”

Tony blushed. He had made his master proud. That should have infuriated him: making someone proud just by not causing a scene. But it actually made him happy that Master Jackson was proud of him – and that worried him.

“Help me make dinner,” Master Jackson said as he turned to the refrigerator. “And then we can watch a movie before bed.”

Tony was bemused. He felt like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Things were definitely changing.

~*~

Tony was nearly asleep in the chair when Master Jackson shook him awake and told him to get ready for bed. The leash had been hung up hours ago. The chains had stayed on and Master Jackson removed them at the bottom of the stairs.

“Take your shower,” Master Jackson reminded him as Tony started up the steps.

Tony didn’t dawdle, being used to his trainer’s whims on shower time, so he wasn’t surprised that his owner wasn’t in his room when he stepped, naked, out of the bathroom. He took up position in the middle of the room and waited, feet spread apart slightly for balance and hands folded at the small of his back.

A few minutes later Master Jackson poked his head into the room. “There you are! All set then?” He didn’t wait for Tony’s nod. “Follow me.”

Tony stumbled along the hallway behind Master Jackson, wondering what the hell was going on. He didn’t think Master Jackson was going to want to have sex with him. Even though he’d been trained to please his master he figured Master Jackson didn’t want him in that way. Surely Master Jackson wouldn’t rape him. He belonged to Gibbs even if his paperwork said he belonged to Master Jackson. Confusion washed over him and he nearly walked into Master Jackson when the other man stopped to open a door. _This is it,_ Tony thought.

Master Jackson stepped into the room and Tony thought about running. “Come on, boy. I ain’t got all night.”

Tony stepped into the room. Master Jackson was turning the covers down on an old double bed. The room was decorated for a boy and he immediately wondered if this was Gibbs’ old room. The quilt was old and worn, and as Master Jackson let his hand ghost over the fabric Tony wondered if his wife, Gibbs’ mom, made it for him. “Master?”

“Hop in, Tony. I’m not going to put you in that cage. You definitely earned a bed tonight.”

Tony grinned and stepped forward. He sat on the edge of the bed and then swung his feet up, lying back on the fluffy pillow with a heartfelt sigh. He flinched when Master Jackson touched his leg.

“Calm down, boy. I’m just going to chain an ankle to the bedpost. While I would love to trust you to stay the night, I know you’re still thinking of ways to leave. I can see it in your eyes sometimes. And I’m tired. I want to sleep without worrying if you’ll still be here in the morning.”

The chain was light but Tony knew he wasn’t going anywhere before Master Jackson unlocked him in the morning. “Thank you, Master – for the bed.”

Master Jackson smiled and patted his head as he covered Tony. “Good night, Tony.”

“Good night, Master.”

Tony hadn’t thought he would sleep, but the next thing he knew sunlight was streaming in through the bedroom window and the smell of bacon frying was wafting up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“Get up, sleepyhead!”

Tony grinned at the sound of the old man yelling to him. He sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed, expecting the chain to rattle a little – and was shocked to find it gone. Tony stared at the cuffs around his ankles for a long minute, wondering at the lack of chain – and then got to his feet with a shrug. He stumbled into his room, skirting the cage and going into the bathroom. Not long after, he was walking down the stairs, clad in the same sweatpants he’d worn the day before.

His owner looked up as Tony walked into the room. “Those will do for today,” he said with a nod toward the table. “I’ll show you where the others are later.”

Tony sat at the table, taking a long drink from the tall glass of orange juice at his place.

“Did you sleep well?”

Tony nodded. “Yes, Master. Thank you.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes while they ate. But something was niggling at Tony, and he hoped he hadn’t read Master Jackson wrong but he had to take the chance.

“Master? May I ask a question?”

Master Jackson nodded.

“Y-you call him Leroy. Everyone at the center called him Gibbs.” Master Jackson snorted. “But one man called him Jethro.”

“Is there a question in there?” Master Jackson teased. “My son’s name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I’ve always called him Leroy. He uses Jethro since he moved away from home. And the military commonly uses a last name to denote their soldiers.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully. It all made sense, he supposed – but it was damn strange all the same. “So what do I call him?”

“Sir – and, in a week? Master.”

Tony fell silent, his appetite suddenly gone. Master Jackson didn’t comment on Tony’s lack of appetite. He’d eaten enough to satisfy the old man, apparently, and they needed to clean up and open the store.

The morning passed quickly enough and Tony was surprised when, during their lunch break, Master Jackson removed Tony’s chains.

“I need your help in the store and you will be more effective without these damn chains. That said, I’m not giving you free rein. Jethro left this.” He held up a small black box. “Turn around.” Tony turned and he felt Master Jackson’s fingers at his neck. He unfastened Tony’s collar and then refastened it without removing it. “There you go,” Master Jackson said as Tony heard the click of the tiny padlock at the back of his neck.

Tony could tell something was different but he didn’t know what. As he turned back around to face his owner, he lifted his hand and felt his collar.

“The black box,” Master Jackson said. “It’s a shock box. It will incapacitate you, should you leave this house.” Tony gaped. “I can turn it off should we need to, but if you try to leave without my permission, you’ll be quite sorry.”

Tony dropped his gaze. A shock collar. Like a dog. He might as well be sleeping in the cage instead of the bed. Tony blinked away tears that threatened to fall, and lifted his chin. His master wanted a slave. Well, that’s exactly what Tony would be. At least until he figured something else out.

Tony caught Master Jackson looking at him throughout the afternoon and was careful not to meet his gaze. He was icily polite and carefully helpful to the customers without taking any initiative and, when there was nothing else to do, he knelt behind the counter, always in a spot where Master Jackson had to take an extra step to get around him. By the time they closed up the store, Tony could see that his owner was out of sorts. Tony was still angry so he figured they were even.

He was wrong.

“Shower,” Master Jackson snapped as he turned to start making dinner. “And toss those sweats in the laundry.”

Tony sighed and walked up the stairs. He followed directions, taking a little more time than was absolutely necessary. He’d gotten used to wearing those damn sweats – to being covered – over the last two days, and now Master Jackson had taken them away and he wasn’t happy about it. But he couldn’t put off going downstairs forever so he pulled his shoulders back and decided to face whatever music came his way. Dinner smelled awesome and Tony’s stomach rumbled as he walked down the stairs.

Master Jackson was at the stove when he got downstairs, but there was only one place set at the table. Tony swallowed and waited just inside the doorway, dropping into the expected position for a slave – on his knees. “Get your chains,” Master Jackson said without turning around.

Tony got to his feet and walked to the cabinet by the back door. He pulled his chains out, hating the feel of them in his hands almost as much as the feel of them on his body.

“Wait for me by my chair.”

Tony went to his knees beside the chair. Master Jackson walked past him and set his plate on the table. He walked by him again and sat at the table. Tony didn’t dare look up and he wasn’t prepared when Master Jackson set a tall bottle on the floor in front of him, complete with an adult-sized nipple.

“I hope you don’t expect me to hold that for you. My hands are busy right now.”

Tony couldn’t look away. A bottle – of slave gruel. Master Jackson was eating what smelled like chicken Parmesan and garlic bread and he got a bottle of slave gruel. Tony could hear Master Jackson’s cutlery as it softly clattered against his plate. His stomach growled again.

“Eat up. You need the nutrients.”

Tony wiped away the tears that threatened to fall. He took a breath. “I’m sorry, Master.” His voice, rough with emotion, was barely louder than a whisper and he heard Master Jackson pause eating. But then the man resumed and Tony sighed softly as he reached for the bottle. He figured he had disappointed his new owner more than enough for one day.

The gruel was thick and bland and Tony hated it, but he managed to choke it down. When he was finished he set the bottle back on the floor and waited. It seemed to take Master Jackson forever to finish his meal but Tony knew it was just because he had to kneel quietly and wait. Waiting wasn’t his strong suit. Quiet hadn’t ever been either – until the whole slave thing, that is. And still he struggled with it.

When his owner had finished, he cleared the table and then headed into the living room. “Bring your chains.”

Tony gathered the chains again and got to his feet. It wouldn’t do to piss his owner off any further. He dropped to his knees at Master Jackson’s feet, holding the chains up like an offering. Master Jackson took the chains and laid them out over his lap.

“Stand.”

Tony stood in front of Master Jackson and watched as the man bent forward with a soft grunt of effort and fastened one of the chains to Tony’s ankle cuffs, doubling it to hobble him.

“Turn around.”

Tony turned carefully. He really had little play in the chain at his ankles and had to be careful not to trip himself up. Master Jackson fastened his wrist cuffs together and then had him kneel. Once Tony was on his knees, Master Jackson fastened a chain between his wrists and ankles. He wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

“Stay there.”

Tony rolled his eyes as Master Jackson walked out of the room. Just where did he think Tony would be going, hogtied as he was? He huffed out an aggravated breath. He heard a door rattle. A minute or so later it closed.

A few minutes later Master Jackson walked back into the room carrying a squeaky dog toy. “Open.”

Tony blinked, confused by the order.

“Open your mouth.” Master Jackson didn’t sound angry but he was far from his normal easy-going self.

Tony opened his mouth and found it quickly filled with the dog toy. He instinctively bit down and the toy squeaked. He spat it out.

“Open,” Master Jackson said again. “Now.”

Tony glared but opened his mouth.

“Don’t drop it and don’t make a sound.”

Tony held the toy in his mouth gingerly. Master Jackson looked at him for a moment and then picked up a newspaper and began to read.

In minutes Tony was bored. He shifted on his knees a little to ease the ache. Then the drool started accumulating in his mouth. Swallowing around the rubber toy without biting down on it wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever done but he did his best to be unobtrusive. He wanted his owner to forget how he’d acted earlier – even though he’d done it simply to prove to himself that he could. When his jaw began to ache, Tony wanted nothing more than to move it – but he couldn’t since one of two things would happen. He would either drop the toy and possibly earn a punishment or make it squeak and possibly earn a punishment. Instead, he was going to tough it out even if it killed him and maybe he could convince Master Jackson that he really was sorry about how he had acted that afternoon.

At some point Master Jackson left the room. Tony was so out of it, he didn’t even notice until the man came back and gently pulled the squeaky toy from Tony’s mouth. He whimpered and ran his tongue over his parched lips. Master Jackson held a glass of water to his lips and Tony drank deeply. A few droplets of water ran down Tony’s chest but he couldn’t have cared less about it. Thirsty as he was, he would have put up with a pitcher of water poured over his head, as long as he could catch some of it in his mouth.

Tony sighed when the glass was finally empty and Master Jackson pulled it away. He opened his mouth to thank Master Jackson for the drink and then thought better of talking. The toy tasted like crap and Tony figured that Master Jackson could find something worse to shut him up with if he gave it any thought. And being borderline rude to Master Jackson’s customers earlier hadn’t ingratiated him to the man. He was in enough trouble without adding to his transgressions.

Master Jackson released Tony’s wrists, and his arms fell to his side. He closed his eyes against the ache in his muscles and then blinked when Master Jackson snapped his fingers. “Follow me,” Master Jackson said turning away. “On your knees,” he added as he walked away.

Tony got to his hands and knees and started after Master Jackson. It was slow going since his ankles were still hobbled but he managed to hurry along and was only a couple of steps behind Master Jackson when the man started up the stairs. His knees felt bruised by the time he hit the top of the stairs but Tony knew better than to complain about it. He looked into Gibbs’ room as they passed and knew he wouldn’t be sleeping in that wonderfully soft bed again anytime soon. Tony followed Master Jackson into the room with the cage and followed directions to use the bathroom and get ready for bed.

When he came out of the bathroom Master Jackson motioned for Tony to follow him again. Tony was confused when they entered Gibbs’ bedroom. And then he saw the large dog bed in the corner of the room.

“Well, get on up there,” Master Jackson said.

Tony climbed up on the mat and sat. Master Jackson affixed a chain to his ankle. The other end was affixed to the wall.

“Get some sleep,” Master Jackson said as he turned away. “The chain isn’t long enough for you to use the bed. Think about that the next time you disrespect me and my customers.”

“Yes, Master,” Tony murmured, his head bowed. He waited until Master Jackson had walked from the room, shutting the light off and pulling the door closed behind him, and then he lay down on the mat and curled in a ball. It was going to be a long night.

~*~

Tony wore full sets of chains for the next two days but that didn’t bother him as much as the fact that Master Jackson didn’t talk with him. Sure, he gave him orders and direction – but that was it. He had only had the opportunity to interact with the man for a couple of days and then only superficially, but he had thought that Master Jackson had seen him as more than a slave. And that realization begged the question of why he’d reacted so strongly to the shock collar. Master Jackson was simply watching out for him and for Jethro. And Tony had shoved it back in his face. He was such an ass sometimes.

Tony concentrated on acting properly. For some inexplicable reason, what Master Jackson thought of him mattered to him. He didn’t get it. He couldn’t explain it. But something inside told him to treat the old man with respect, so he worked hard through the next days to make up for his previous stupidity. He didn’t get everything right every time, but he hoped Master Jackson realized that he was trying.

Friday was approaching and Tony was getting nervous. Gibbs was supposed to pick him up on the weekend and Master Jackson was going to put in the transfer of ownership paperwork Saturday morning. But Saturday came and went with no Gibbs, and Tony was left wondering what was going on.

Finally, around noon, Master Jackson pulled Tony aside. “Tony, I have something I need to tell you.”

Tony’s heart fell. Gibbs didn’t want him. But he’d started to like the old man and maybe Master Jackson would decide he wanted to keep him – even though he’d said he had never wanted a slave. Tony could be useful. He would show Master Jackson that he could be helpful.

“Leroy isn’t quite ready to pick you up yet. He’s asked me to keep you a while longer.”

Tony nodded. Kneeling at Master Jackson’s feet and keeping his head bowed meant that Master Jackson couldn’t see the hurt on his face. He was a slave and it was crazy to think that Gibbs actually wanted him. It looked like he had changed his mind and now it was merely a matter of time before Master Jackson saw the error of his ways as well – and put him up for sale again. At least he knew Gibbs – knew his idiosyncrasies, knew what was expected of him. And he was now also learning what Master Jackson wanted – slowly. But being put up for sale again meant facing the unknown again, and there were no protections for slaves. Anything could happen.

“Tony?” Master Jackson sounded worried and Tony couldn’t figure out why. “Aw, hell, boy.” Master Jackson pressed him forward. Tony felt like he was floating and his head spun as he folded down to the floor. “Slow your breathing.”

Master Jackson kept talking, soothing him, and after a few minutes Tony felt like he might not fall apart after all.

“You better, boy?”

Tony sighed softly but didn’t answer. He felt like a puddle of mush and couldn’t be bothered to try to lift his head or anything else to signal that he was okay.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you, Tony. You’re going to stay here with me for a few weeks and then Leroy will be picking you up – just like we planned.”

Tony concentrated on the breath going in and out of his lungs. Gibbs wasn’t abandoning him to his father? But Master Jackson had said a few weeks…

~*~

Tony found himself watching out the front window every afternoon and blushed when he caught Master Jackson watching him. Yes, he was wondering what was happening out in the world. He also wondered what his friends were doing and how they were getting on with their lives. But he was trying not to think about what was keeping Gibbs from coming for him. After all, he didn’t even really like the man so what was it that was making him so antsy about staying here with Master Jackson?

He counted the weeks by the days the store was closed: Sundays. Two Sundays had passed. The days were getting cold and blustery and the leaves had mostly fallen. He longed to strip down and soak in a hot tub – or curl up in front of a fireplace somewhere. But, according to the clock over the checkout counter, they had hours left to go before closing up the store.

Nothing was moving out on the main street and Tony finally turned away from the window to see Master Jackson watching him. He ducked his head and started sweeping again, cringing slightly when he heard Master Jackson sigh.

“Anything moving out there?”

Tony stilled and then looked up quickly. He shook his head. “No, Master.”

“Well, okay then. Turn that sign over, boy, and let’s get the heck outta here. It’s too cold and no one’s out and about. Makes no sense at all to keep the store open today.”

Tony blinked, surprised but not wanting to show it. He calmly turned the sign in the window over so CLOSED showed to the outside.

“Lock up, will you?”

Tony turned the locks on the front door and pulled the blind over the window. “Anything else, Master?”

“Finish sweeping up, Tony, and then meet me in the kitchen.”

It turned out that Master Jackson wanted lunch before doing anything else – not that Tony was sure there even was an “anything else”, but _something_ was going on for Master Jackson to close up shop early. Sure, it was chilly, but his owner was a stubborn man and Tony would have bet that Master Jackson never closed the shop early or even took an unscheduled day off. Yup, something was definitely going on.

But if there was something going on, Master Jackson was acting very cool about it. Tony ate what he could of the sandwich Master Jackson told him to make and conversation was non-existent. It didn’t take Tony long to fall into his slave mindset; do what you’re told, when you’re told, and don’t ask questions.

“Clean up in here, Tony, and then meet me in the living room.”

Tony watched Master Jackson walk away and then got to his feet and cleaned up the kitchen. Any other day this would mean heading back to the store to open again afterwards, but since they had closed at a different time and Master Jackson seemed bent on keeping the store closed, Tony didn’t know what they were going to do. If he had to kneel in the living room the rest of the day he would go stir crazy. It didn’t matter if Master Jackson napped, he still felt guilty getting out of position – and afraid of what Master Jackson would do to him if he woke from his nap and Tony wasn’t where he’d left him. Nope – not trying out the punishment scene again. He would rather have sore knees than get his ass kicked.

Tony had no more than walked into the living room when he spied the paraphernalia laid out in front of Master Jackson. He stopped in surprise.

“Come here, Tony.”

Master Jackson didn’t sound angry but Tony was still confused. He thought he had been good. He’d followed all of Master Jackson’s orders today without complaint or even rolling his eyes. He had done a good job and had finished his tasks quickly and efficiently. So why was he being punished?

Tony didn’t dawdle even though he wanted to go back into the kitchen and start this encounter all over. He was, of course, hoping for a different outcome. Instead, he kept walking until he was standing in front of Master Jackson. As he started to kneel, his owner stopped him and told him to strip. Tony’s eyes widened before he could stop the reaction. He hadn’t been unclothed downstairs in over a week. Well over. What the hell was going on?

Tony took a breath and peeled his shirt over his head. He folded the shirt and then looked around.

“Just set it on the coffee table.”

Tony nodded once and set the shirt down. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his trousers and hesitated.

“Tony?”

Tony blushed and skimmed his pants down over his hips, letting them pool on the floor as he skimmed out of his shorts. He folded the shorts and pants and set them on the shirt and then turned to face Master Jackson again. He didn’t know what was expected of him and he couldn’t meet Master Jackson’s gaze so he simply stood and stared over Master Jackson’s head, picking a spot on the off-white wall, and prayed that whatever this was would be over quickly.

“We’re going out.”

Out. Tony was naked and they were going out. He sighed. This couldn’t end well.

“Let’s get you ready.”

Tony thought he’d been ready for anything _before_ he got naked, but apparently he was mistaken. He stood still, his skin crawling as his owner shackled him. His cuffs were never removed but the chains had been conspicuously absent of late. He had liked not having to wear them all the time.

Soon, he was trussed up like a Christmas goose and he had to hand it to Master Jackson – he actually knew a little about tying someone up. This time his owner added a leather belt to which Tony’s wrist cuffs were affixed, holding his hands at his sides. The chain between his ankle cuffs was long enough that he could take nearly normal sized steps. He got to try it out when Master Jackson added a leash to his new ensemble and tugged the leash in a signal for Tony to follow him.

Tony didn’t miss the fact that Master Jackson picked up a small duffle as they headed out the back door, but he had no time to wonder at it as Master Jackson hustled around the side of the house. Tony followed, climbing into the back seat of the car and kneeling on the floorboards when instructed. Master Jackson then gagged him and blindfolded him before telling him to relax of all things. He flinched as Master Jackson slammed the car door and then the car was moving. But where was Master Jackson taking him?

Tony tried not to worry. He wanted nothing more than to ask his owner what was going on. He could hope that Master Jackson was finally going to gift him to Gibbs, but Gibbs’ name hadn’t passed his owner’s lips in _days_. There had been no phone calls that Tony was aware of or any other communication, so Tony doubted that was it. But now that the thought was in his head, Tony couldn’t stop thinking about it. He had wanted to belong to Gibbs when he knew he was going to be put up for sale – because he was terrified of the potential of an unknown owner. But now that he had belonged to Master Jackson for the last few weeks, he was afraid of being gifted to Gibbs. Gibbs as a trainer had been terrifying and Gibbs as an owner was a complete unknown. Would Gibbs the owner be better or worse than Gibbs the trainer?

The motion of the car was soothing, especially when he couldn't see anything outside. It was either fall into a semblance of subspace or get car sick. The second option wasn’t a choice really, and he fought it until he found the soothing aspect of the motion and the time passed easily.

Tony couldn’t have told anyone how long they traveled or in what direction. He didn’t count the number of stops or note the roughness of the roads. He drifted, pulled from his inner peace not by the stopping of the vehicle, but by the door at his back opening. Cold air blew over his skin, and Tony shivered as he raised his head. He couldn’t see anything, of course, and there was nothing he could do but follow the strong hands as they urged him up off his knees and out onto what felt like dirt under his bare soles.

Tony could hear birds and maybe wind in the trees but the air smelled different and he knew they weren’t in a town or city. It smelled clean and fresh and a little gritty as if the road itself was dirt and the tires had stirred it up. He breathed deeply through his nose – and sneezed.

A rough chuckle sounded off to his right, and Tony flinched at the sound. If his owner was holding on to him, who was laughing? Was Master Jackson getting rid of him? Tony’s skin crawled and he shuddered. The hands leading him rubbed over his arms.

“Shh, boy. It’s almost done now.”

Master Jackson. It was still his owner who was holding him – but what did he mean, it was almost over? Tony moaned around the gag in his mouth and Master Jackson patted his back.

Strong arms wrapped around him and Tony rested his chin on a shoulder. But his owner was shorter than he was by quite a few inches, and this shoulder was at a height that told him this person was nearly the same height as him. Who? He jerked against the arms holding him and they only tightened.

“Shh, Tony. I’ve got you now.”

Whispered words – but definitely Gibbs’ voice. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Tony sagged against the strong chest as he finally admitted to himself that he hadn’t thought he’d ever see Gibbs again. The relief made him weak and he couldn’t catch his breath.

Those strong arms held him up and pressed him against Gibbs’ body and he sobbed into the gag, gasping as he tried to catch his breath through a nose that was getting more and more stuffed up.

“Calm down, little one,” Gibbs said as he held a handkerchief to Tony’s nose. “Blow for me.”

Tony blushed as he blew his nose into Gibbs’ handkerchief, feeling like a little kid again. He sniffled.

“That’s a good boy.” Gibbs tugged on his leash, letting go of his arm and leaving Tony floundering in the darkness. “Come.”

Tony took tentative steps across the dirt, not trusting the ground he couldn’t see. He didn’t want to wind up on his face. And then a voice inside of him told him he had to learn to trust in his owner to keep him safe. It’s what Gibbs had been trying to tell him at the training center and what Gibbs’ father had been trying to show him in Stillwater. But could he really do it? In Tony’s mind, being a slave was all about uncertainty. It was about oppression and pain and punishment and the very slim possibility of escape. But what if it was really about trust and caring and safety? What if Gibbs had been trying to give him all of that and he had passed it up until now? He had never had any of this growing up – or at least not since his mother had died. Was he really going to run away and live on the edge of society, always looking over his shoulder for the brokers to find him and put him up for sale again? _He would be free then and not tethered to a man he barely knew. But maybe he could learn just who Leroy Jethro Gibbs was – and maybe he would like him._ Was he really going to risk being put down as a rogue slave or sold to a brothel or to a mining company or, god forbid, to a research facility? Tony knew he couldn’t handle any of that. He would rather die than be less than human. Could he trust Gibbs to keep him safe? _Could he afford to trust Gibbs? Could he give his trust and his life into Gibbs’ safekeeping?_ Did he really have a choice?

Tony stumbled over his own feet, and a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He was nearly hyperventilating.

“Trust me.”

Tony took a breath and nodded. He could do this. He lifted his foot and stepped forward, confident that Gibbs was watching out for him – and trusting that he would keep him safe.

~*~

EPILOGUE:

Tony looked up when Jethro walked into the room. He’d started thinking of his trainer, Gibbs, as his owner, Jethro, after about a month of living with the man. Mister Gibbs had dropped him off at the remote cabin in the hills of West Virginia and then turned around and left. Jethro had been patient with him and more liberal with praise than he’d ever dreamed possible – and, surprisingly, he had settled in pretty quickly.

Jethro didn’t really own him – at least not in name. Since Master Jackson had bought him under an assumed name, he and Gibbs thought it best if they didn’t try to transfer ownership to Gibbs. But Master Jackson had still gifted him to Jethro and Tony couldn’t help but think of Jethro as his owner now – even if Jethro didn’t legally own him. Jethro owned him in more important ways than on a piece of paper.

“Are you finished?”

Tony nodded quickly, zipping the suitcase closed and setting it on the floor by the bed before dropping to his knees. Jethro reached out and cupped his face in his calloused hand, sending a shiver up Tony’s spine. The smile that flitted across Jethro’s face told Tony his owner knew exactly how he affected his slave. As much as Tony wanted to, now was not the time to beg for his owner to throw him down and fuck him – not unless his owner told him he was going to _make_ him beg. But he knew they didn’t have the time for such indulgences today. They were leaving the cabin.

Jethro hadn’t told him where they were going. All he had said was that it was an _adventure_. And he had smirked. But Tony could tell that Jethro was excited about something and he had been spending an inordinate amount of time on his cell phone lately, talking where Tony couldn’t overhear – usually when he was tied up or caged, and sometimes hooded.

To say that Tony was eager was an understatement. He’d never seen his owner so excited about anything. Sure, he was excited about Tony’s training and his progress – but this was different. Something was up – something big.

Jethro bound Tony carefully, hooded him, and then led him to the large SUV and helped him into the cage in the back. Settling was difficult with the plug that was filling his ass and the chastity device that encased his cock and balls. Tony’s arms were pulled behind him, encased to his biceps in leather binders – not pulled too snugly, but tight enough that he felt it. His legs were strapped together at the ankles, knees, and thighs, and he groaned as he was forced to sit on the end of the plug, driving it further into his ass.

He heard Jethro lock the cage and then slam the hatchback closed. He strained to hear something in the silence and then he heard Jethro’s door slam shut as well – and he relaxed. As the SUV came to life with a rumble, so did the plug in his ass, and Tony yelped into the hood. His owner was nothing if not devious, and Tony had the feeling that he would be too distracted by sensation to worry about the ride.

The road was bumpy before smoothing out minutes or hours later. Tony drifted between moments of agonizing pleasure as Jethro played with the settings on the vibrating plug in his ass. The chastity device kept him frustrated and Tony ached with need.

By the time Tony realized the silence meant they had stopped, Jethro was opening his cage. He whimpered as Jethro hauled him out and stood him on the ground; pins and needles shooting through his legs while the plug shifted in his ass. He took a deep breath in through his nose and waited for Jethro to unstrap his legs and clip his leash onto his collar. Already, he was planning the walk in his mind; taking steady, confident steps to make Jethro proud.

He yelped when he was upended and came to rest over Jethro’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry. It was disconcerting, knowing he was tipped up but not seeing the world differently since he was still hooded. A sharp slap on his bare ass stilled him and he quickly quieted as Jethro slammed the back of the SUV and started to walk.

Everything was muffled and Tony couldn’t tell where they were – or where they were going. It wasn’t until Jethro set him on his feet again that Tony could feel the movement under his feet. He couldn’t quite place it but he knew he’d felt it before. And then Jethro pulled the hood from his head, and he blinked his eyes open and looked out across an expanse of water. They were on a boat.

Tony gasped softly but held his tongue. While Jethro was patient with him, he had also trained him to have impeccable manners. Slaves waited for their owners to give them permission to speak. Not that he followed that edict every single time – but Tony knew that this moment was important to Jethro and he didn’t want to spoil it by breaking form.

“Do you like the ocean, Tony?” Jethro asked, his breath tickling the shell of Tony’s ear.

Tony nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Jethro,” Jethro chided softly. “When we’re alone, you call me Jethro.”

Tony nodded again. “Yes, Jethro. I’m sorry for forgetting.”

Jethro chuckled. “Do you like to sail?”

Tony held his breath briefly. “I don’t know – Jethro.”

“Never been sailing?”

Tony shook his head. “No, Jethro. I’ve never been sailing.”

Jethro nuzzled against Tony’s neck. “Well, we’re going to take the _Spitfire_ out today and, once we get into the open ocean, I’m going to bend you over the railing and fuck you hard. I love to sail and I hope to instill that love in you too. We’re going to be spending a lot of time on the water.”

Tony smiled and wriggled against Jethro as he reached down between Tony’s legs and fondled the cock cage and Tony’s bound balls.

“Kneel for me.”

Tony knelt, a little awkwardly with his legs still bound. He watched as Jethro affixed his leash to a tie point on the railing.

“Don’t move,” Jethro said with a chuckle and Tony rolled his eyes, safe in the fact that he was facing away from Jethro. It didn’t stop the man from slapping the back of his head, though. “That was for rolling your eyes. And don’t even try to deny it. I know you.” He stooped and placed a kiss on the top of Tony’s head. Tony had hair now, a little more than stubble, and he felt more like a person – even when wearing his Master’s chains.

Tony heard Jethro walk away, his footsteps rapping against the wooden decking of the boat. Within a couple of minutes the boat began to move and Tony couldn’t take his eyes off the view of the land falling away. He was distracted enough by the rolling waves that he didn’t hear Jethro approach his position again.

But suddenly his owner was standing at his back, helping Tony to stand and then unbuckling the straps around Tony’s legs before bending him forward until his chest rested against the top of the railing. Jethro then used the straps he’d just taken off Tony to bind him to the railing. Tony was breathing heavily when Jethro stepped away again. Tony stared down at the water, wondering what Jethro was doing – and then strong hands gripped his hips and he felt Jethro’s cock nudge up against his ass. Jethro pulled the plug from Tony’s ass and then slid inside in one long, careful thrust, wringing a long moan from Tony’s lips.

Jethro gave him a couple of long, slow thrusts before slamming inside and pounding away, seemingly racing toward his pleasure. Tony felt each thrust. He felt each brush over his prostate. The pleasure built and built but, strapped as his cock was, there was no way for him to get off. He thought that this should bother him more than it did – but, strangely, Tony was happy to be the vehicle to give his owner pleasure. His own pleasure could wait.

Jethro slid the plug back in Tony’s ass when he finished and then pulled Tony back up into his arms. It didn’t matter that they were both naked. Jethro sat in a deck chair and pulled Tony down onto his lap. It was a little awkward leaning back against Jethro with his arms bound behind him, but Jethro didn’t seem ready to loosen his arm binders yet, so Tony relaxed back with a little sigh of contentment.

The only sounds were of the waves hitting against the sides of the boat. There was no one else around.

“So how do you like sailing so far?” Jethro asked after a few long minutes during which Tony began to drift off.

Tony licked his lips and smiled. His eyes were heavy and his words were almost slurred when he was finally able to form words. “I love it, Jethro. Especially if life on the ocean will always be so exciting.”

Jethro kissed Tony then, cupping his head and turning Tony to face him. Tony could feel his cock try to stir again but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get off – and he really didn’t mind. Being with Jethro was fulfilling all by itself. Everything additional was just gravy.

Tony relaxed back against Jethro again, looking out over the water. He thought about his plans to run away and smirked a little. Who was he kidding? He was right where he wanted to be. Sure, he wasn’t free, but he wasn’t being hunted either – and he was cared for and loved. Slavery was slavery, but he had really lucked out when his trainer had fallen in love with him.

END


End file.
